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About This Poem
Fishing Days
It’s 5 am, we sneak out of the house
My brother and I, as quiet as a mouse
To his red bike, where I sit on the cross bar
Trusting my brother, we won’t go too far.
Put the worm on the hook, wrap it round well
Or it will wiggle off, and the fish it will tell
Watch the float as it bobs, and pull it in gent-ly
That how my brother taught fishing to me.
Always sneaking out, fishing in the dark
Racing on his red bike, we thought it a lark.
He made me dig up the worms, for the fishing bait
But I wouldn’t squeal, no, that was never my fate
Holding both fishing rods, I hung on real tight
He promised he would teach me to use it just right.
In the river we found we loved to fish best
Often paddling in water right up to our chest.
My brother, he stopped taking me fishing with him
I always caught the fish; he said it was a sin.
Then came the day girls were more interesting than fish
Our fishing days were over, it was never my wish.
So anyone with a rod that they will let me use
I’ll sit on your crossbar, or saddle if you choose
Teach me to fish and to cast it with skill
And I’ll get your worms up, I promise I will.
© ~GG~ 14/11/2012
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