Gone Fishing
It’s 3:15 am and I’ve just packed my lunch and kit
The predictive seaweed looks clammy as I check it
The shipping forecast confirms, rain is on the way
And hovering around minus two for most of the day
I set out to the lake, about two hours drive
I am alone today without my friend Clive
As I arrive it’s raining and the wind has picked up
So I set my kit in place and pour my first cup
I sit back in the cold chair, chill out and wait
Will any fish like my fly today, and take to the bait?
My round score on the last few occasions
Has been zero, zilch, nothing to mention
But I keep coming back hoping for a bite
Day after day, and night after night
With hook, line and sinker cast in the water
Who knows, maybe one day I’ll catch that whopper
It’s about this time I notice my cold hands and feet
So on goes the gas fire and I enjoy a little heat
When the weather is grey, wet and freezing
Just wrap up warm when you go fishing
The time now is about quarter-to-two
So I unwrap my sarnies and pour another brew
Only another couple of hours and I’ll call it a day
And brag to Clive about the one that got away
