Fishing Poem

© Ryan S. Harvey


I walk up to the river and in it I peer.
So soothing is the water and crystal clear.
A slight wind from the west awakens the trees.
I watch as they dance in this sweet cool breeze.
Tired is the sun as it sinks in the sky.
Little time left so my best I must try.
I reach back with my arm then bring it down like a hammer.
Releasing my line, in the most graceful of manner.
Through the air my lure soars, what seems like a mile.
Evoking from me, a most pleasurable smile.
A perfect cast, a wonderful shot.
I see my bait slip flawlessly into the best of spots.
Slowly I reel taking in slack.
Just then an explosion, a vicious attack.
Hard I pull back.
Then from nowhere a snap.
The fish was gone to travel on.
An outing on the bank all gone wrong.
A 7 Dollar lure still in his lip.
I hang my head low holding my rod at my hip.
He got lucky this time, but not the next trip.
Fishing Poems A Break in the Line