First rays of sun, through the lakeside trees.
The sweet smell of lilac, mixed with the breeze.
To the quiet of shallows, my craft I did ease.
It's mornings like this, that make memories.
A dip in the water, I give to the oar
Pushing off smoothly, away from the shore.
Another few yards, just a little bit more.
I'll begin my ballet, That's what I'm here for.
I wind up my arm, to make my first cast.
Just as I've done, many times in the past.
It's moments like this, I just want to last.
It's "fishing time", and it surely goes fast.
An Original Poem by Jon Wright <(;HF+< See More Great Poetry Here @ https://www.tsu.co/jonow  |
| Photo taken on 2-16-15 by Jon Wright at a new lake I got permission to fish last year |
No comments:
Post a Comment