Gone Fishing

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



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