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The Joy of Fishing

Fishing poem


The Joy of Fishing 

A sport of sport’s in the morning sun
Out at a lake reflecting all
The colour of the sky above
And listening to a skylark call

The robin with his begging ways
The fishermen that know him well
The distant sound that’s in the air
Of the ringing of an old church bell

The heron stalking in the reeds
The little voles swim to and fro
The swallows flying gracefully
The hawk that strikes his prey below

The cuckoo echoing out his sound
Just like a clock upon a wall
The chaffinch flying from tree to tree
Chirping out his chirpy call

And just before the sun goes down
The colourers blend in the evening sky
Of pinks and blues and strands of gold
A priceless picture you couldn’t buy

All this is part of the angler’s world
To boost his day down by the lake
As he sits there very patiently
Waiting on the fish to take

I have been spending some of the wonderful weather we are having relaxing in the countryside.
I take my fishing rod and my camera and of course my writing pads to write my poems.
The countryside always inspires me back to carry on with my poetry.
The Joy of Fishing tells of all those wonderful things seen through the fisherman’s eyes as he sits by a lakeside, I hope you like it.

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