I cover myself with the sheets 

while I hear the dreadful noise,

I’m then alarmed fishing is today

and that’s how I keep my poise.

I race down stairs eager to start

so I gather my supplies and gear,

rod bait and tackle I hold in my hands 

so that means, I'm all clear. 

Stepping out the door

I see the calm, crystal lake.

No people, no disturbances, 

its quiet, I’m glad I’m awake.

I sprint to my hurricane 

filled with excitement and optimism.

I turn the key but the storm won’t start 

before long I express skepticism. 

Frantic, I search for a solution 

so I read the gauges and see...

that the darn thing’s got no gas

I then think, silly me.

I head to the station 

to fill up the bright, red tanks. 

Fueling the hurricane so that

her engine won't feel any blanks.

Finally, I start the hurricane 

and hear her harmonious purrrr.

I find my spot and cast a line 

fish are near...I'm sure.

I cast, and cast, and cast some more 

but no luck comes towards me.

My bait sparkles and shines looking tasty,

Obviously the fish disagree.

I can't help but think

I hate sitting and waiting.

I can't help but think 

why can’t fishing be more entertaining?

In the midst of my doubts

I feel a tug and a bite.

My mood instantly changes,

certain i'll eat fish tonight. 

I reel the fish in fast 

causing me to sweat. 

I have the fish to the boat…

but I have no net!!!

The fish makes splash, after splash

while it fights and squirms. 

I heave the floppy fish in 

but I knock over my worms.

I struggle to grab the fish 

with it flopping, but I caught her.

I shout Hooray, but the slimy fish 

slips and falls back in the water.

“Fishing is not for everyone,”

my father once told me. 

I do agree, but more upsetting 

tonight, my stomach will be empty.