Every day we fish.
We cast our lures and our flies
into the rippling reservoir of life and wish
for a nibble.
Maybe we fish for a compliment,
for a single kind word, for a nod
of approval. For a lover's assent,
or for a day without rain.
Like any good fisherman,
we cast out and we wait.
We sit on the riverbank
and anticipate
the bounty of our catch,
the catch-of-the-day.
And we dream of stories to tell
of the one that got away.
i love this part very much sonny And we dream of stories to tell of the one that got away.
i love this part very much sonny And we dream of stories to tell of the one that got away.
Oh..never thougth about it that way...great poem..hmm....me thinks u r also fishing for appreciation of ur poem..hehehehe..aren't ya? *wink*
Are you baiting me? ((laughing, laughing)) I so enjoyed this analogy... The One That Got Away Your scarlet letters lure, (you drag your mouth with mine) you drag me under deep waters, hooked, I hang on your every word; You drag me blindly upstream, hard lines pull against that current, hard against my better judgment, against the odds, almost to the point of no return. Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love a good fish story....We manufacture Mr. Wiffle Sonic Tail Soft Plastic Lures...they never let the big one get away.....