<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=542391" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Fishing Poem</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A Fishing Poem<br> <br>He was a gentle old man<br>Who reluctantly spoke<br>And he’d sit on the pier<br>And he’d fish and he’d smoke <br>His eyes and the lines on his face told a tale<br>While his leathery hands drew the bait from a pale<br> <br>This man once a lad on this very wharf stood<br>And he leapt and he shouted as loud as he could<br>For each tiddler that wriggled on the end of his hook<br>With excitement and pride he would offer a look<br>To everyone passing “hey see what I caught”<br>And he’d show them his fish and he’d ask what they thought <br> <br>But a lifetime had passed for that excited, fair boy<br>Many years filled with heartache, discovery and joy<br>Countless friends that have gone, fortunes both made and lost<br>And yes lessons were learned but each came at a cost<br> <br>Now he sits and he lands every fish with such ease<br>And in silence he packs up each days end and leaves<br>Many times I’ve fished by him not so close to offend<br>And I’ve learned from his actions and regard him a friend<br>Though we speak very little and trade only a nod<br>And we focus our stare at the end of a rod<br> <br>One day I’ll replace him in his spot on this pier<br>At my side another young face will appear <br>To ask all of the questions, then it will, be my turn<br>To quietly say “son, just watch and you’ll learn”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Farmer">Michael Farmer</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=542391" data-title="A Fishing Poem de Michael Farmer" data-description="A Fishing Poem He was a gentle old man Who reluctantly spoke And he’d sit on the pier And he’d fish and he’d smoke His eyes and the lines on his face told a tale While his leathery hands drew the bait from a pale This man once a lad on ..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black