We are currently learning poems in my 3rd grade class..Here is today's poem .{ -:
Big Bass Grandma
Out here on a lake so blue,
Trolling holes made in saw grass.
Telling tales that may be true,
Of how we lost our biggest bass.
The sun pops out in the blue sky,
Wooo, look out now I got a hit.
I love this man and you know why,
It's excitement to never forget.
The pork and jig is my fish cop,
Rapala is one more that's brought,
Got worms that sink or float on top,
And tiny torpedoes that pop,pop,pop.
If all this fails they have lock jaw,
Even when there is no flaw,
Keep fishing til your fingers raw,
that's when you'll find big bass grandma.
A bass is hooked, my pole is bent,
Come on now she's at the boat.
I land her as we both are spent,
Then turn her loose for tales to float.
And Another...
GONE FISHING WITH DAD
My Dad meant so much to me,
When I was growing up;
He taught me love of nature,
And how to fish and hunt.
We'd take our little car-top boat,
And put it in the pond;
But Momma wouldn't let us go,
'Til we'd mowed the lawn.
She'd fix a Dagwood sandwich,
With chips and soda pop;
She knew when we went fishing,
It'd be dark before we'd stop.
So many times we'd sneak away,
Just Dad and I together;
Sitting and waiting for a bite,
In any kind of weather.
Of course, our pup would tag along,
We named him Jiminy;
'Cause that's exactly what I said,
When Dad brought him home to me.
Dad would sometimes sit and read,
Or stare at me with pride;
I was always happy,
Just being by his side.
Some summer days we'd take a walk,
To our favorite fishing hole;
We'd have a can of fresh-dug worms,
And my specially made cane pole.
Sometimes my fish weren't very big,
But "keepers" they would be;
Just because my Dad knew,
How much they meant to me.
When each springtime rolls around,
I find myself wishing;
Every boy and girl in this old world,
Knew the joy of fishing.
A Bass Poem
Thanks guys...
