The Most sensitive rod I own.

I have to live under what fate and destiny had planned,
And try to let it all be, for the things that I don't understand.
As I tell my self this is my mirror, with a nod,
Everything is connected you see, to my sensitive fishing rod.

Now before you deem me crazy and although I'm probably insane,
Let my prose try to enlighten you as I go on and try to explain.
I am a fisherman and will always be, beyond when all memory will fade,
For when the power of life came to me, a fisherman is what it made.

You see you must possess a very sensitive rod, to tell when the fish takes a bite,
And one that you can truly trust for hope, and one that feels just right.
So I showed this sensitive rod I own, to a good fisherman friend of mine,
And he said out-loud without hesitation ; "What a sensitive rod so fine!"

Now I don't tell just anyone, how sensitive this rod can be.
For this rod was owned by my Son, who died, it was, his rod, you see.
And in my deep grieving for him, I cried, and I shook with many a sad moan,
And I keep his rod fishing just for him,,... it's the most sensitive, rod, I own.

pcs

I tried to cancel it to be gone for I had decided not to print it out, but can't somehow. Sorry. It was a long time ago.

Thanks for sharing. Don't ever cancel. This reminds us for stuff we take for granted. Thanks Again.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Bytizawn

I have to live under what fate and destiny had planned,
And try to let it all be, for the things that I don't understand.
As I tell my self this is my mirror, with a nod,
Everything is connected you see, to my sensitive fishing rod.

Now before you deem me crazy and although I'm probably insane,
Let my prose try to enlighten you as I go on and try to explain.
I am a fisherman and will always be, beyond when all memory will fade,
For when the power of life came to me, a fisherman is what it made.

You see you must possess a very sensitive rod, to tell when the fish takes a bite,
And one that you can truly trust for hope, and one that feels just right.
So I showed this sensitive rod I own, to a good fisherman friend of mine,
And he said out-loud without hesitation ; "What a sensitive rod so fine!"

Now I don't tell just anyone, how sensitive this rod can be.
For this rod was owned by my Son, who died, it was, his rod, you see.
And in my deep grieving for him, I cried, and I shook with many a sad moan,
And I keep his rod fishing just for him,,... it's the most sensitive, rod, I own.

pcs

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Very nice poem. That is what memories are made of.

Very nice!

Thanks for sharing with us. Your Son's memories will never die, and are a light to guide you even as the years go by. Thank You for SHARING...Ranger