The Fishing Trip
The Fishing Trip
By
Ross Dix-Peek
Oh, How I remember those fishing trips with my Dad
Ah, They made me so very, very glad
Up at three in the morn
Long before the coming of the dawn
My father assembling all his fishing tackle
So very gleeful, a laugh and a cackle
“Have you got the bait boy, ready to go? ”
“Yes, Dad”, and away we would go, all in tow
In our dear old “Landie” the rugged road was ne’er a problem
As we traversed the winding dirt tracks, and some
Ah, the window down and the wind in my hair
The smell of fresh bait a waft in the air
Rugged Africa all about, myriad of sounds ringing out
My dear old Dad gaily whistling, as we headed south
A cigarette forever dangling from his smiling mouth
And all the while the great African sun beats down
And then to the river waters we would come
Excitement in the air and then some
Dad would sit and the waters study
A swig of Coca-Cola, and then we were ready
The fishing gear debouched
Us along the river bank crouched
Rods dangling in the silver stream
Waiting for our first catch, possibly bream
Ah, those days, those days were so fine
The scorching sun upon my spine
Sitting next to my beloved Dad
Ah, but those days be gone now, really quite sad!
Anyway, with our great bundle of fish in tow
We would finally onward to home go,
But now years later my dear old Dad is dead
Only those wonderful memories do remain in my head
So, if you with your Dad fishing do go
And the seeds of bonding do sow
Don’t the time wish away
For there will come a day
When your dear old Dad no longer is there,
And wasted time together is too awful a cross to bear!
poem by Ross DixPeek
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Grandpa's Lake
He was sitting by himself all alone,
Down in a little corner.
Looking out of place, in the funeral home,
And away from all the mourners.
His dad walked up, and I heard him say,
Daddy can I go home?
I don't know why grandpa went away,
But he might be home alone.
I want to be there, when he gets back,
We were going fishing today.
He'll need his hooks and rods, and that burlap sack,
Where he puts the fish away.
His dad looked up, a tear in his eye,
And said 'grandpa's fishing now.'
But it's a great big lake, up in the sky,
And you can't go there right now.
He's fishing with his dad today,
They'll be fishing for some time.
They have a lot to do and say,
Cause to that lake it's a long steep climb.
They haven't seen each other,
In oh, so many years.
And grandpa's glad to see his father,
And both their eyes have tears.
And grandpa's a little boy again,
Just a fishing with his dad.
And on his face there's no more pain,
I hope for him your'e glad.
The little boy just smiled and said,
I guess I'm happy about that.
Yes for grampa I'm very glad,
But for me, I guess I'm sad.
I wanted to go fishing, with my grampa today.
But if you can take me,
To the lake, maybe the bay,
I'll go, my time is free.
I guess I'll wait to fish with grampa,
Till I can make it to his lake.
Maybe he'll find some secret spots,
I sure hope so, for my sake.
1/4/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But, I Can't Stop Fishing! ! !
But, I can't stop fishing,
I told my new wife.
It's an integral part,
Of all young men's lifes.
But she laid down the law,
It was fishing or her.
Get rid of the tackle,
The rods and the lures.
She wanted no part,
Of those smelly fish.
To tell you the truth,
She was really a...pain.
Well I don't know what happened,
But after a while,
She just let it go,
Like a bright eyed little child.
And I took her fishing,
For the first time in her life.
And she caught more than me,
My wonderful new wife.
It's close to forty years now,
And she never stays home.
She says it's not right,
That I go fishing alone.
12/21/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fishing in the Wei River
In waters still as a burnished mirror's face,
In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim.
Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod
And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream.
A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear
Softly shaking my ten feet of line.
Though my body sits waiting for fish to come,
My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.
Long ago a white-headed man
Also fished at the same river's side;
A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish,
At seventy years, he caught Wen Wang.
But I, when I come to cast my hook in the stream,
Have no thought either of fish or men.
Lacking the skill to capture either prey,
I can only bask in the autumn water's light.
When I tire of this, my fishing also stops;
I go to my home and drink my cup of wine.
My Fishing Hole
I'm going down to my fishing hole,
Got my tackle box, and Garcia pole.
Gonna catch a mess of fish for lunch,
Fry em up in my pan, I love that crunch.
With a bitsy minnow on my line,
I'll catch enough, so all can dine.
Hoping for blue gills and sunfish too,
I love fishing that's what I do.
I got a sandwich and a couple of beers,
I do love fishing, I hold it dear.
Look at this fishing hole, what a beautiful sight,
Hold on, hold on now, I got a bite.
11/16/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
He went Fishing
Fishing tackle in tow
Hoping for a big catch
Jack headed towards
The cool clear waters
The sea was calm and
The sun shone brightly
It was the perfect day
He readied his gear
Fixed the bait with care
And lowered his tackle
Into the water at the edge
Dangling his rod he broke
Into song - a fishing ditty
That sounded nice and witty
But he was awakened soon
From his quiet reverie
By a huge mass that got
Entangled with his gear
The rod seemed to bend
Under the heavy weight
Then he lowered himself
To see what it could be
And wasn’t he surprised
To find an extraordinary
Jelly fish looking creature
Stuck to his rod which was
Stationary, while his bait floated
He shook the rod violently
To rid it of the jelly like intruder
But he could not extricate it, left
With no choice, he hauled it up
Only to find that it was not a fish
But something heavy and strange
Packed in reams of bubble paper
Deciding not to take a chance
He called up the local police
They too seemed reluctant
To unravel the parcel and
Display the contents since
There was a distinct stench
That worsened as they undid
Each sheet of the wet packing
Finally what was revealed was
A complete shock for everyone
A dead little baby tied to a stone
And drowned in the sea apparently
To wipe out any trace of her - this
Brought tears to everyone's eyes -
How could anyone ever murder
A defenceless child and drown her! !
Fortunately a hospital name tag
still dangled from the decaying wrist
Jack hoped that the perpetrators
would be quickly tracked down and
Punished for the heinous crime
He never went fishing again..........
poem by Sandra Martyres
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My First Fishing Trip
Went with dad to Port Isabel to learn to fish,
‘Cause to catch a fish I told him that I did wish.
So to Purdy’s Court fishing pier,
We went with all our fishing-gear.
Yes, that fishing trip with dad I’ll always cherish!
There we were, him giving me casting instruction,
Then he baited my hook with a live crustacean,
I cast out high in the sky.
To catch a big fish to fry,
But instead, caught a sea gull - as consolation!
poem by Bobby Beddoe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gone Fishing
Im gone fishing
I got me a line
Nothing I do is gonna make the difference
So Im taking the time
And you aint never gonna be happy
Anyhow, anyway
So Im gone fishing
And Im going today
Im gone fishing
Sounds crazy I know
I know nothing about fishing
But just watch me go
And when the time has come
I will look back and see
Peace on the shoreline
That could have been me
You can waste a whole lifetime
Trying to be
What you think is expected of you
But youll never be free
May as well go fishing
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Bad Day Of Fishing
A bad day of fishing,
Can go a long way.
It beats a good day of work,
Any old day.
Nothing beats fishing, I guarantee,
Listen to what I say.
If you don't like fishing, you'll still agree,
Have a bad fishing day.
11/3/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Steal
A fishing rod
Stretch into the fishing pond slightly
Sneaking the child
Look around furtively
He did not see
I was at the window
Seeing him
knocked on the window
Ran away the child
Leave a fishing rod
I saw a mouse
Run away like a rushing smoke
The fishing rod
Hung on the iron railing and swayed
Nor fish no fishing rod
The child
The first lesson in life
A cost of stealing
poem by Catherine Yen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gone Fishing
Sylvia searched the whole house over
Calling out her lover's name...
He was not there, oh no ~ oh no,
He was hooked on the fishing game.
Down to the water he had gone,
Whether the sport was right or wrong!
The river was his hideaway,
So peaceful, on a warm summer's day.
Sweet Sylvia disliked the hobby,
Thought the fish could feel the pain.
She saw them struggle for their freedom
But Sylvia would never complain.
Now to wait three hours, or more.
Until that key turned in the door,
And he would greet his Sylvia dear
All laden down with his fishing gear.
And tomorrow morning may well be the same
'cause he was hooked on the fishing game.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Fishermans Will
A Fisherman's Will
I have eaten catfish in more ways than one
Fish that is blackened is not over done
Bass done over a grill with butter basting
Fish balls fried are really tasty
I have had days I caught more fish than I could contain
Then there were days I didn't get a bite and it rained
Memories of Dads and trips where we bonded
Caught some that could have been mounted
Romance and fishing don't go together well
Poles and pools on days hotter than hell
I've never make a good fisher of men
But I have found fishing gives me a grin
So when I die I ask you please
Put my body in a river or sea
Let the fish then eat off me,
So I may return the favor, please!
This is my request in my:
Fisherman's Will
Jim 1989
poem by James Casey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
5. Gone Fishing
Fishermen cast out their nets
We all in turn go fishing
Some will use a rod and line
While others fish by wishing
Some wish for so many things
Like numbers in a line
If the line is lacking some
Next time they say that’s fine
Others fish for gossip
So they can tell to others
No escape for anyone
Not even someone’s brothers
Fishing for a missing sock
The washer won’t release
Hiding out behind the drum
With fluff and bits of fleece
You see we all go fishing
Not always using bait
Just cast a line for what you want
Then settle down and wait
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Fisherman's Boat
I am tied to a pole
In me came and sat a fisherman with a big mole
He had a fishing rod and a net
With a bucket and bait so wet
He untied me and rowed me
Into the deep sea
And with rod, net and bait
He caught fish till late
He went home with a big fish
To prepare and eat a tasty dish
Tomorrow again he’ll come wearing his overcoat
To untie me, his little fishing boat.
poem by Niharika Singh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Your Fishing Pole
There is something about you, something in your soul
something that seems to surround your fishing pole….
You moved to the coast, now that’s no lie
And we had a hard time with that little goodbye
But no need for heartache, no need to console
You had your boat and your fishing pole.
You know everyday you go out to fish
it’s like a genie granting every little wish
every time that bobber goes out of control
we know you are happy with your fishing pole.
Now on birthdays it’s special out on the water
I hear if you’re there, they’ll jump for the slaughter
You’ll be piling them in like your lucks on a roll
Reeling them in with your fishing pole
So today of all days take heed and relax
Pack up a cooler with drinks and some snacks
put on your shoes and go take a stroll
Down to your boat with your fishing pole.
poem by Kathleen J. Shields
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Goodbye Little Colombus
I'm going fishing
I got me a line
Nothin' I do's gonna' make the difference
So I'm taking the time
And you ain't never gonna' be happy
Anyhow, anyway
So I'm going fishing
And I'm going today
I'm going fishing
Sounds crazy I know
I know nothing about fishing
But just watch me go
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lost Bait
I lost my bait
Where did I bait the last time?
My loss determined I don't prevail
I'd better go back to kids' playing
Instead of fishing on shore
Calm down I know what you want
But you just lost your wording chance
And the chance to fish a whale
Sitting there worried, anguished
Maybe feared so much
But you're so strong
And I'd better be retired
I lost my bait and I don't have fishing in my mind
Leaving the young one to be worried to death
poem by Yihuai Ying
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Fishing Poem
Fishing in the moonlight or fishing in the sun;
Fishing for the big ones is fun, fun, fun.
Catching the small ones or none at all,
It’s a great sport to get on the ball.
Good luck on your next trip,
And let’s hope you don’t get sick.
poem by William Sawyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Two Boys Fishing
Two little boys fishing
Cheeky lads in short pants
Sitting on a river bank
Sharing sweets and fizzy drinks
Wondering what life may bring.
Two teenage boys fishing
Now shaving in the mornings
Sitting on a river bank
Talking of girls and a first time kiss
Excited by what love may bring.
Two young men at a wedding
Hard working, friends for life
One the groom the other best man
Talking softly waiting for the bride
Who comes so radiant in white.
Two middle-aged men
Abundant with family love and work
Sitting on a river bank
Talking of mortgages, school fees
And of coming Government elections.
Two old men fishing, old and grey
Grandfathers looking back at life
Sitting on a river bank
Grateful for each other's company
Sharing life's highway to God.
poem by Colin Ian Jeffery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Burrs In My Pants
Burrs in my pants,
Thorns in my shoes.
Fishing this lake,
Just gives me the blues.
The fish are not biting,
And thats a fact.
Maybe it's time,
I headed back.
All that I got,
From my fishing trip.
Were burrs in my pants,
And sunburned lips.
I guess this fishing trip,
Was meant to fail.
When the burrs started sticking,
To my tail.
10/10/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fishing In The River At Autumn Night
The moon shines on the river while autumn wind is blowing.
At night, I invite my friends to go fishing and boating.
Rowing our oars, we seek a shoal of fish gladly.
Mooring to pillar of the bridge, we act quietly.
My partner catches a red carp with his fishing bait.
Shaking its head, the reed wonders the old men's fate.
Is the strategist of Zhou Dynasty still fishing?
No! He migrates to the land of peach blossoms sleeping!
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
http: //poem.bestfd.com/bbs/forum.php? mod=viewthread&tid=12101&extra=page%3D1
poem by Charles WOO
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!