Fishing poles, compasses, and windbreakers of gray and blue,
Indigo skies, and the fresh breezes make you feel new.
Sunlight wraps itself around your shoulders, as it fights the fierce waves and ocean air,
H ues of aquamarine, mauve and gold are splashed across the horizon by the tips of Summer's paintbrushes.
Every part of your body feels free as you place the bait at the end of the fishing line,
R oaring waves surround you as you feel the excitement , freedom, and the golden sun that never refuses to shine.
M emories touch your heart as you think of your father , the joy of unwrapping your first fishing pole, and tales of the fish that got away,
Everything changes when you get older, except your passion for fishing , a day at the sea, and the ocean spray.
Never lose your lust for the sea, scent of fish, or comraderie with the sea,
If anyone asks you why you want to go fishing, just tell them, that nothing is better than feeling free.
The fishing pole is part of a man's soul.
Tom
Gerry
Another Winner!
Many Bleesing My Italian Friend,
John Michael
Anna
I'm not mad about the ocean, except to look at it and I hate fishing. But I do love the poem - your paint a beautiful picture. Be well, Liz
EDWIN
hugs
fee
Fine tribute to something lasting, eternal some would say, and more than the experience of fishing, this is a whole way of thinking and of great attitude.
John
Be always safe,
Karen
to those who know the joy and freedom of fishing the sea.
-gene.