Fishing - Poem by Charles WOO
After retirement, fishing gave me a lot of pleasure.
I chose my golden rod and bait at the time of leisure.
Cutting appropriate wood, I made my special float.
The broken creel was repaired and I went angling by boat.
At a water-surrounded rock, I whipped my fishing rod.
The hook flew so high in the sky and the sea gulls were awed.
Sweating under the hot sun, I never missed a hooked fish.
Friends admired my harvest which was as good as I did wish.
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