Just re-posting a poem of a good time with Don Adams, after seeing him at the pool. Lively Log The lake was calm, but certainly not clear. There were no ripples; it was as smooth as a mirror. A twenty horse motor, propelled the small boat, In which Don caught a fish, about which he would gloat. Things were just fine, till an hour went by, And I looked up, at the darkening sky. The boat began to rock, in a rhythmic motion, And the waves got larger, like out on the ocean. My 20 horse outboard sputtered and fluttered, And the cowardly Don, shuddered and muttered. The bait we used, was in very short supply, So we started to head in, to get warm and dry. But Don snagged a log, and I didn’t really care, I wanted to get home; I yearned, not to be there. With the motor I cranked, till my arm was numb, While Don’s line ran out, as he slowed it with his thumb. The log fought back, and put up a big fight, It was actually a fish, to the Amazing Don’s delight. I gave up on the motor, and prepared the dip-net, To land the biggest darn fish, I have ever seen yet. The net broke in half, with the first wild stab, So I modified my grip, with a shorter grab. To make a short story long, which I have done already, We brought the fish in, and stood fast and steady. As it thrashed around, and twisted about, We measured the thing, from tail to snout. Forty-two inches, the Musky turned out to be, And we dropped it back in, to save a big, out-of –season fee.
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 03:11:52 +0000
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