Ofttimes when in a dark despair,
with troubles on my mind
I amble to my fishing hole,
bait hook and drop a line.
I see the myriad clouds roll by,
see nature's world abound ;
Midst hills and dales, flowers and birds,
"tis here life's joys are found.
And soon I drift in reveries
on thoughts of bygone years;
Fulfilling thoughts of happy times,
beset with smiles and tears.
My line starts bobbing, there's a fish,
a big one too, I find.
This will fill out my dinner plate.
Fresh thoughts caress my mind.
Now, I turn homeward all renewed,
with poe'try on my mind;
Grab pen and paper, eagerly,
I'll drop another line- or two.