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Fishing

Silently sitting, waiting and wishing.

Anticipating the first bite of the day,

It could be a tiddler, barely dipping my float,

Or a powerful carp, that could tow a small boat.

Monsters or Minnows I really don’t care.

It’s a place, where I leave my problems behind,

relaxing and peaceful, clearing my mind.

Where the Kingfisher fly’s, and a grass snake swims by,

there’s fresh bait on my hook, and at my side picnic pie.

There’s nothing quite like a day by the lake,

waiting for a fish to take my bait.

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