Fishin' Poem by Rich Harney

The hounds, the pond and the straw hats
Colluded as one
And dappled on the afternoon
Some lazy toil at fishin'.

They cast their bobbing lines all day
And bubbled in the mud
And dug at worms and lady bugs
And all their fancy crud.

Telling tales so tall and gone
The perch and bass had nose,
'Tis something in the water under
Coming …. As it grows.

And fretted not their Saturday
Was slipping into done,
Until the long of shadows stretched
Into the setting sun.

As fireflies winked their eve away
At weary boys slumber,
We'll catch that catfish ‘morrow
And dream in fields of amber.