The Fisherman Poem by Alexander Beebe

A throw from shore, dock or a boat, a fisherman yearns for the prize that’s afloat. A cast of his line so eager is he, but patience and time will be what he needs.
The first bright reflection the sun says hello, a bright orange halo envelopes him so.

A dip of the float a tug on the line heightens his senses tickles his mind. A catch or a steal it matters not now, the day is still young his patience will heal. A smart adversary so cunning and quick, it takes from the hook with nibbles and rips.

A ripple he hears like a knock on the door invites him to enter to try once more. A volley is cast and lands where intended; the trap is now set the slack is well mended. He caresses the line for this day will not linger, feeling the pulse of the line on his finger. A snap then a tug is all that it took, the bate was consumed the line was well hooked.

He reels the prize in and smiles with amazement, his trophy is large his pride is contagious. How great is his catch he thinks to himself, I’ll add seven inches and throw him back out. No picture he takes for his story to tell. They’ll just have to trust me- he smiles to himself.

The day is now over; his catch it was plenty. He thanks God above for the time he spent with him. Alone on his boat observers would see, but God walked his bow like he once walked the sea. A fisherman too was his Lord and Savior, a thought that brings comfort when seas do not favor.