April 6, 2017
By Anonymous

Whistling pines in the air

And the wind carrying my boat is quite fair

I spot a good place to cast

My reel let's line out very fast

I cast my bucktail up to the shore

Reeling this lure is quite a chore

Its big gold blades shine in the sun

Most people won't find this activity very fun

Still no fish caught today

I must go back to camp and pray

That I will catch a fish tomorrow

So I don’t leave Canada in Sorrow

The author's comments:

This poem is about my fishing trips at Lake of the Woods in Ontario Canada. 

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