Are the fish biting today? I guess we will see.
The sun is just rising. Is it meant to be?
With my pole in my hand, I head for the shore.
I don’t need a tackle box, Just worms, nothing more.
I find a nice rock, ‘Ah, this one will do.’
It’s just the right size. I kick off my shoes.
The worms are a wriggling, The water is just right.
I cast out my line And get ready to fight.
I sit and wait patiently. The sun is so warm.
I should get a bite. Uh – Oh. here comes a storm.
I reel in my line And head up the hill,
Then pray to the Gods One wish to fulfill.
Let it be quick. Don’t stay here too long.
I want to go fishing. This storm should be gone.
A few cracks of thunder And some lightning, too,
Some big drops of rain To make everything new.
Then like two young lovers The clouds they did part
I grabbed all my gear And playing it smart,
I put on my jacket And a nice wide brimmed hat
Then on my rock by the shore I once again sat.
I donned a new worm And cast out my line.
It was still kinda sprinklin’ But that was just fine.
With a zing and a whir My pole came alive.
A fish I had caught And, oh, he had drive.
He swam and he sw