 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 01:34:33 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 179129
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => River Wild
[time] => 2014-08-19 19:35:34
[hometext] => I had such a vivid dream of my dad and I,so vivid and the events led me to believe it was just him saying hello.
[bodytext] => "To go fishing is the chance to wash one's soul with pure air, with the rush of the brook, or with the shimmer of sun on blue water. It brings meekness and inspiration from the decency of nature, charity toward tackle-makers, patience toward fish, a mockery of profits and egos, a quieting of hate, a rejoicing that you do not have to decide a darned thing until next week. And it is discipline in the equality of men - for all men are equal before fish." ~ Herbert Hoover Awe struck, little girl wonder. Reflections of dad, his pole and the river dancing in my wide brown eyes. Precise and easy, line floating fly dancing on river ripplet's round a rock, WHAM! Fish on, a big fish on. My pole sat beside me on the bank little hands tucking it in so the river wild didn't wash it away. Wanted to watch dad with the fly pole there would be a fish later down the line for me. His hip waders, picking each step farther and farther out he went gathering himself a time or two river rocks slippery, well polished. I, taking it all in, each movement each step, each light whirl of the line snap,snap,snap..... Drifting,drifting, swirling round an eddy he always knew just where to be to let the fly dance, reading the river, the ripple, the sunlight upon the waves like sitting intently reading his favorite book. Wham,fish on..... Soon I had strung up an entire line and let me cool in a safe place hanging over the grassy banks just beneath my feet. Sun beginning to set, sky flaming orange just time for one last cast before shadows over took him. It took but a short second wham fish on.... Fish for a cast iron fry pan tonight. Note: My dad and I did a lot of fishing. He was good at it all. He was not patient though as far as teaching.So I did not ever learn to fly fish from him, so that was something the two of us didnt not both do together, regular fishing yes not the fly fishing. The other night I had a dream of just dad and I out in a river and we were both casting the fly line, it was Heavenly. When I woke up I thought boy I need to learn would be nice to be at a river right now. I believe dad came to me and gave us that moment of fly fishing together in my dream, how cool is that?! [comments] => 7 [counter] => 224 [topic] => 23 [informant] => shelby [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com