LeRoy F. OatesHawthorne, California |
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(dob) November 5,1921 (pl) Buffalo, NY. |
FISHING AND WISHINGI often wonder when looking up high,where do fishes go when they die? I know I'm closer to God when I'm fishing. When I'm alone out there in the wild. For I say my prayers and make my wishing; I see the beauty of nature that is mild, A beauty that is far beyond compare, The beauty of nature that is everywhere Have you ever seen an eagle soaring high above the river? Where the rapids go on and on forever Does the fawns prancing in the forest Heard the birds join the jubilant ? The fire flies lighting up a field of corn. Or frost on the pumpkin in the early morn I've seen it all and heard their call In summer, winter, spring, and fall. I've traveled through the mountains and the hills I've fished the rivers and the rills. I've often caught my limit of five or seven And wonder, Do fish ever go to Heaven? I hope the fish forgive Me when I die, For I've asked forgiveness from God on high Pray to God when I take that final sleep That I'll think I'm really big enough to keep. |
My Love My WifeOh! My darling I have loved You all these years,Through sickness and health through laughter and tears Forty five years we have been together In joy and sorrow, fair and foul weather Although we're not as young as we used to be I have always loved you and at times you have loved me I have loved you with all my heart I love you right from the start There were times when there was a doubt Whenever we quarreled, when ever we shout; But that soon passed and we would go on as before Each day I loved you all the more There were times when I didn't show it But I still loved you and you know it Maybe I didn't love you with a lot of passion Yet I loved you always in my fashion Maybe I wasn't as sexy as you But my love for you was always true We raised a family, the kids are grown The time has come for us to be alone; All these years you have been my life My sweetheart, my love, my wife. |
STEIN ON THE RHINEWe stopped in the village of Stein on the Rhine,We had a glass of Rhine wine, which was mighty fine; I asked for a kiss from a pretty Fraulein, She said, "Lips that touch wine, shall never touch mine; So I didn't get the kiss from the pretty Fraulein, But the glass of Rhine was mighty fine; In the village of Stien on the Rhine |