A Pleasant Reverie
It is morn in the countryside late in the spring,
and the lake is so placid and birds they all sing.
All the flowers in bloom and the air is so clean;
not a day that’s so lovely has ever been seen.
As I walk to the lake I can see little swirls
where the fish break the surface as morning unfurls.
It is late in the spring when the fish end their spawn
that the fishing is best; to this place I am drawn.
For the crappie are biting or so I am told,
and a stringer of fish is a sight to behold.
There’s a fish fry tonight; I can taste it right now;
to my house you can come and your friends I’ll allow.
But my telephone rings and it brings me to life
brings me back to my world which is filled with much strife;
many deadlines to meet and my day is extreme,
and my walk through the country was merely a dream.
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