The Fisherman

With pole in hand and watchful eye He a silent vigil keeps With firm resolve to land the "Big One" or die Casting into shallow reeds and cover deep It matters not whether in a boat Or standing on the ground Armed with every style of bait Not another soul around He sits, contented to wait Tension mounts as the line goes slack Then begins to pull s-l-o-w-l-y ever tighter And with a whiplike motion He jerks it back ! Oh yes! He's got a fighter !!! He sets the hook and patiently reels Prepared if necessary to tire out his prey A sudden resounding SPLASH ! Reveals the trophy he'll take home today But what? Oh NO!! A resonant POP! A disappointing death of thrill But he's a true sportsman and he will not give up For Lady Luck is no match for skill So, again with pole in hand and a watchful eye He in silent vigil once more keeps With an even firmer resolve To land the "Big One" or die Casting into shallow reeds and cover deep.