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| Topic: He Whistles | |
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He Whistles On the way to his place With his pole in his hand Looking all around him To spend his day as planned His creel and his tackle Worms wriggling, spilling Awaiting their fate Hook's threaded, unwilling He whistles a tune I have heard most my life His shoulders relaxed Today no strife. Many a day He spent his time Thinking and planning Sometimes he'd whine Why can't I go Why stay here The fish are out biting I feel them so near Oh, if I had a net They'd jump right in Or I could grab them quick Is a fish lie a sin? Once in a while now When he gets that look You can tell he wants To bait that hook. His body's not the Young he once was His mind still alive He doesn't fish becuz. But, oh, can he whistle when he walks down that road you'd never know he was older It's the way he always blowed. Raine Les 5/13/2009 |
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Love this Sadie...reminds me of my Dad
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Sometimes indeed, the simplest things in life make us the happiest
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This is nice Sadie. I especially like the last two stanzas.
They kind of hit home I'm afraid to say. 
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He Whistles On the way to his place With his pole in his hand Looking all around him To spend his day as planned His creel and his tackle Worms wriggling, spilling Awaiting their fate Hook's threaded, unwilling He whistles a tune I have heard most my life His shoulders relaxed Today no strife. Many a day He spent his time Thinking and planning Sometimes he'd whine Why can't I go Why stay here The fish are out biting I feel them so near Oh, if I had a net They'd jump right in Or I could grab them quick Is a fish lie a sin? Once in a while now When he gets that look You can tell he wants To bait that hook. His body's not the Young he once was His mind still alive He doesn't fish becuz. But, oh, can he whistle when he walks down that road you'd never know he was older It's the way he always blowed. Raine Les 5/13/2009
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He Whistles On the way to his place With his pole in his hand Looking all around him To spend his day as planned His creel and his tackle Worms wriggling, spilling Awaiting their fate Hook's threaded, unwilling He whistles a tune I have heard most my life His shoulders relaxed Today no strife. Many a day He spent his time Thinking and planning Sometimes he'd whine Why can't I go Why stay here The fish are out biting I feel them so near Oh, if I had a net They'd jump right in Or I could grab them quick Is a fish lie a sin? Once in a while now When he gets that look You can tell he wants To bait that hook. His body's not the Young he once was His mind still alive He doesn't fish becuz. But, oh, can he whistle when he walks down that road you'd never know he was older It's the way he always blowed. Raine Les 5/13/2009 What a beautiful tribute. Many of us fathers, grandfathers, uncles & brothers would like to be remembered this way. |
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Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Sadie,,,,,
Simply Beautiful as is the love that flows from your Soul 
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