Some think that fishing is a waste of time,
A mindless, endless waste of time,
I, on the contrary, disagree,
And I have the facts to support me,
It is a decisive, deliberate game of wish,
Between a mammal and a slippery fish,
It is a recreation, a hobby, a sport, if you will,
To see if I can catch an unsuspecting bluegill,
I have the right tackle and the wiggly worms,
I don’t mind the smell or the slimy germs,
I push the worm gently onto the hook,
And cast my line into the babbling brook,
The bobber I put at just the right place,
The lead sinker pulls the bait to just the right space,
I wait and watch the bobber do its dance,
Up and down, up and down, I am in a trance,
Waiting tranquilly for the fish to hit,
Because I, the mammal, will outwit,
Suddenly, a tug and the bobber goes under,
How big will he be? I stop briefly to wonder,
The triumph of catching my fish is quite near,
I know that I have him, so there is no fear,
I reel him into the edge of the bank,
He surfaces the water and I give a big yank!
Oops! He falls right off of the hook,
And escapes back into the babbling brook,
He takes my bait and swims happily away,
With patience, I’ll be back for him another day.
Tammy Harvey Written: January 30, 2017
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