The sweat rolled down each chubby cheek,,
Bright red from his exertion...
A cane pole was his tool of trade,
With worms for hook's insertion.
 
His steps were hurried, no time to waste,
He felt the fish were biting...
Across the field and through the woods,
Quick gasp at creeks first sighting.
 
His faithful dog, who tagged along,
Mouth open in wet drool...
Part of a team that walked the bank,
And searched for likely pool.
 
Beneath a tree they picked their spot,
Sank down on dark green grass...
With patience and a baited hook,
Lay back to let time pass.
 
A boy, his dog, and fishing pole,
Big part of peaceful scene...
For it is then that thoughts roam free,
And mind gives birth to dream.
 
 03/24/09  Loree (Mason) O'Neil
 
 Midi playing is:  Peaceful Easy Feeling
 

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