The frosty days will, soon have fled,
Replaced with balmy times, instead;
And as the warmth of Spring appears
I set aside my win'try fears
To fly, unfettered, as the breeze
To any fishin' hole I please
To test my skills with trout or bream,
Or maybe...'catch' a glimpse of Him.
The fish may leave my bait alone
To 'flop' with glee when I am gone
Devoid of fish, my creel may be,
But pleasant thoughts go home with me.
It's not the ones that get away,
Or ones I catch that 'make my day'
It's not the venture by the creek...
It's listenin' to the Master speak!
Read more articles by Howard L. Pierce or search for articles on the same topic or others.
