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All of us have met interesting people in our life,
They are not close friends, but they stood out.
Some of them could only do whey they did,
They had the knack of doing things without any doubt.

His name was Pop Dennis, an older gent,
Taught science at high school well loved and known.
But fishing was his pride and joy
Bamboo pole, hook, line, sinker, he was always alone.

He knew the secret place to catch the fish,
By the St Clair River, at a place called the cove.
The pickerel loved their little hideout
But they could never resist Pop Dennis's technique !

He caught more fish than anybody else
And eventually we knew the reason why,
The way he handled his bamboo pole was not ordinary,
The right motion of his line was the right attraction.

Now pickerel are the very best eating fish,
Pickerel, fries, cold slaw was right for the menu.
Better than steak, a taste we would always relish,
Eggs, crackers, , butter in the pan was never an issue.

No one could duplicate Pop Dennis's technique,
He was the master fisherman, a relic of the past.
The giggle of his line made him so unique,
I am glad I knew him, a fisherman of class !

About this poem

The art of fishing

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Written on August 11, 2021

Submitted by Mcclintock on August 11, 2021

1:03 min read

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    "Fisherman" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 27 Nov. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/106827/fisherman>.

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