One day the boy traded in an arrow filled quiver
For a stick, a hook and a worm to go fishing on the river
He was gone for the longest period of time
When he returned home his clothes were full of grime
Despite the protests of his relations
He managed to handle their frustrations
By assuring them he knew how to swim
"So please don't worry about him"
This was the beginning of a life long tradition
That was carried on without opposition.
More often than not he never caught fish
Which didn't matter for that was not his wish
It was a time of peace and quiet with no distraction
Just a time of total and complete satisfaction
Now the boy has gone perhaps to heavens fishing hole
Maybe God will be kind enough to lend him a pole
That has to be an atmosphere where it is peaceful
I'm sure my boy will be happy and tranquil
© Carol Oliver
| | | | | | |
