Gone Fishin'

Together we would whittle sticks while chewing juicy gum We would find a place to rest beside a river green and wide The skies were blue, tall grass that grew, would brush against my knees and willow trees, would shade the trails and nesting squirrels would hide With a tackle box on summer days, we'd sit in lazy pose With our fishing poles, and cheerful hearts, in ivy covered coves It mattered not, no lad was I, ...a girl is what he got And he seemed quite glad, to take my hand, and help me hook the bait I'd toss it in, against the wind,......then sit awhile to wait It mattered not, if fish were caught, the waiting was our friend The sun felt warm, his voice could charm, and worries would be gone Curiosity of my tender youth, this world a puzzle, vast I would ponder things, and pick his brain, with many questions asked This kind old man with gentle care, and a quiet ear to lend Would tweak his mustache, and kindly hear, without a word to bend While deep in thought, would listen well, and continue with his task As if my words were meant to hold, and mattered more than gold He'd try to find the perfect word, with wisdom from the past With satisfaction we would whittle sticks, yet carving so much more When shadows fell, he'd take my hand, the young one in the old And head back home, as sun goes down, from lazy river's shore Those fishing holes, are idle now, too soon the autumn fell Although I tread the shore alone, I clearly see them all