Fishing with
Father
Quiet river;
babbling brook,
A man; his boy must
bait the hook,
And, find the finest
rippled run,
A matchless joy
for father; son!
Watch a bobber;
draw the lure,
Wafting waves in
water pure,
Taut the tethered
line is reeled,
Until the tug in
hand revealed!
The heart will
race with inward rush,
The sports-boy gripped
in silent hush,
A broken line he
only fears,
As fish beneath
the surface nears.
He draws the fish
and starts to smile,
His Dad applauding
all the while,
A memory caught;
the fish set free,
To swim once more
within its sea.
Now, summer days
have just begun,
With bonded joy a
father; son,
With tales to
joyful Mom relay,
And, thoughts to
fish another day!
Peter Lowell
Paulson
June 24, 2017
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