Grandpa's Fishing Tales Poem by Michael Peterson

Get up early, wake the young ones
Make a hearty breakfast
Getting the kids ready for the trip
It's fishing time down by the lagoon
Grandma is packing the lunch, for all to munch
Grandpa loading the poles and the tackle box
A cooler of ice and soda to refresh our souls
Ready for the ride in the old Chevy Truck
Us, kids riding in the back, with old Duke
Bouncing down the bumping roads
Laughing on every hit, we could almost pee
He knew the way to our hearts to the tee
Getting there was half the fun
Finding our favorite place was always an adventure
Thru the woods, over the hills, mazing through the tall weeds
There were shorter ways, but he showed us nature along the way
It was his way to teach us
To our spot we laid the blanket out
The cooler and food basket in the shade
He had the rocks place just right for our seats
That's what he told us.
The lagoon so beautiful, so peaceful
Birds flowing thru the air, along with the clouds
The waves so calm it looked like a mirror
To cast our lines, try to catch the big ones
Grandpa telling us his stories of childhood times
The laughter, so priceless, so dear to us
For skipping rocks, riding the trains, too many loves
From the depression to war and then to meeting grandma
We loved to the stories more than catching fish
Grandpa, was our storyteller
A great one he was, his memories endless
Hours upon hours of fun
Heading home all laughed out
The fish in the buckets, all smelly
But we didn't care
A day with Grandpa was a gift from god
Many more trips to go on
Stories to tell, getting the big one
Grandpa never misses a beat
Fishing with him was my heaven
Missing him, makes me think
Will I take my grandkids on our own trips
Stories to tell, Laughter in the air
Grandpa is always with us along the way