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Array
(
[sid] => 150710
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Fishing Poem
[time] => 2009-06-13 11:47:12
[hometext] => the circle of life is ever evident
[bodytext] => 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 this very wharf stood And he leapt and he shouted as loud as he could For each tiddler that wriggled on the end of his hook With excitement and pride he would offer a look To everyone passing “hey see what I caught” And he’d show them his fish and he’d ask what they thought But a lifetime had passed for that excited, fair boy Many years filled with heartache, discovery and joy Countless friends that have gone, fortunes both made and lost And yes lessons were learned but each came at a cost Now he sits and he lands every fish with such ease And in silence he packs up each days end and leaves Many times I’ve fished by him not so close to offend And I’ve learned from his actions and regard him a friend Though we speak very little and trade only a nod And we focus our stare at the end of a rod One day I’ll replace him in his spot on this pier At my side another young face will appear To ask all of the questions, then it will, be my turn To quietly say “son, just watch and you’ll learn” [comments] => 1 [counter] => 388 [topic] => 15 [informant] => absolutelyhooked [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FathersDayPoems )
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