A Week Of Saturdays - Poem by bobby beddoe
Everyday is like Saturday since retirement,
Difficult to tell which week day is current.
My memory's a mess,
That much I confess.
So, said to myself, 'Hope it's not permanent! '
Yesterday, Saturday, heard report on fishing.
So today, Saturday, I'm going fishing;
Haven't gone fishing for a while,
Think I'll head down to the isle.
And catch up on long-overdue Angling!
Learned the yellow-mouth sand trout were bitting;
Or, at least that's my understanding.
'Tis really a nice day
To be going to the bay,
And tomorrow, Saturday, - going surf fishing!
Don't need my smart-pho while I'm away,
Don't know how to work it anyway,
So can take it easy and just dream,
And view the inviting waters scene.
Yeah, will fish this week every Saturday!
As for the other this week's Saturday,
That is, if the sky doesn't turn too gray;
It's 61st St. Pier,
Next, Rollover Pass that's near,
That's it, for 'A Week of Saturdays' essay!
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