The Lone Fisherman…

No, not the Lone Ranger,

Nor does this man have a sidekick named Tonto,

But he has his fishing rod & lures,

And time to relax at his favorite fishing hole, for sure.

When he does his thing,

The fish, they do scatter,

Except the ones that are new,

And they do not matter,

As they are the ones that are sought,

And they will be the ones that get caught.

Taken home as a prize, if large enough,

Eaten as dinner or stuffed for a wall hanging,

If too small they will be thrown back,

Giving them time to grow and mature,

And maybe later in life be re-caught,

       As it is in all of Nature.

A long day it is for the lone fisherman,

But relaxing nonetheless,

Away from worldly strife,

Or the constant nagging of the wife,

He has a wonderful life,

Sure to give him happiness,

And much use of his fishing knife,

Which knowledge he can save,

And maybe one day use that knife on his wife,

Using her for bait, and he will know,

He will not be a slave,

Anymore to her constant nagging barrage,

At home in their private cave…

                                                            (ed)