Going Fishin’
We’re the guys that came to fish
A day on the sea is all we wish.
Give us the deck beneath our feet
Some ice cold beer and food to eat.
We’ll bait our hooks and hope for luck
To feel our poles jump and buck.
A big sporty fish on the line
To be played and hauled up from the brine.
When we come back to solid land
We’ll drink a toast to the best fisherman.
It won’t matter who or why
When we finally decide, he’ll have to buy.
One more round, to celebrate
The best fishin’ trip a man could take.
Pat Sigo, summer of 1994, for Jim, Joe, Wayne, and Brian, to commemorate
their “fishin’ trip”.
Goin’ Fishin’ Again
Ice cold beer, potato chips
Just a bite between the sips
The boys all out for a day of fun
They’re full of mischief so you better run.
They don’t want any grief or strife.
They don’t want a gun or knife.
They’re just out to carouse and party.
(This male bonding is always so hearty.)
They’ll probably come back all hung-over.
Jim and the boys went out to play.
They went fishin for the day.
On a boat mid the ocean blue
They hoped to catch a fish or two.
They took some beer in a chest with ice
A little food to make it nice
A change of clothes in case of splash
Some cigars to smoke and probably some cash.
I hope they had a lot of fun
And found out where the fish did run.
May they all come back safe and sound
To their families here on solid ground.
For their trip in 1995
For more information about Patty
McCaslin's Poetry web site,
please contact the Web Mistress,
Randa
Lee.
You can reach me at pattym@imaginemail.com
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