R
Robert Harrison
Guest
A Fishy tail?
Wading for Sticklebacks down in the cut, catching Minnows and Tadpoles and the odd Daddyrough.
Allotments to the left of us, the boating pool to our right, dad fishing at the spot he burlied last night.
Catching the biggest fish that ever swam in that pool, they drink to his name, sitting at his favored barstool
At the Sherwood pub up from the Dingles, the thought of that grand catch sets my heart to tingles.
I do not know if the local kids fish the cut near the pool, I still do, but then I’m a silly, teary old fool.
I just hope and pray that when I die at aged 107, I can catch Sticklebacks in a river somewhere in heaven.
Catching fish up in heaven, I believe is no lie, and all the Roughs I save in my jam jar will never die
But will grow into whoppers bigger than me, a lad, there to be caught again by someone like my old dad.
There will be no charge to fish like there was in dad’s day, it would all be free, and he could fish all day.
No bottom to burly the previous night, “Pull me in pop” the fish would gurgle, “I’m holding on tight”.
Oh the time my dear dad would have with his old fishing line, a pulling in whoppers time after time.
What a lovely day he would have fishing in heaven, and I would be there with him when I die at 107.
You thing this a fishy story do you my friend, well you just wait till you die and to heaven they send
You and your disbelieving ways that think heaven to flail, you will find out that this is no fisherman’s tail.
There are fish in heaven and my dad will be there, and he will pull in the whoppers and all catches fair.
He will talk to them saying “Fish you are a great mate, no way will you finish up on my dinner plate”.
His fishing all done off he would go with rod over shoulder, a smile on his face his stride much bolder
And I will shout “Well done dad, you’re a topper, for you caught the biggest fish heaven had to offer”.
Epilogue
And the fish did speak to dad ‘Great catch Stan for I am a loner, it was me that swallowed poor old Jonah
Now Stan show me that chap who thinks these are all tales, and I’ll show him that heaven really does have
WHALES”.
Wading for Sticklebacks down in the cut, catching Minnows and Tadpoles and the odd Daddyrough.
Allotments to the left of us, the boating pool to our right, dad fishing at the spot he burlied last night.
Catching the biggest fish that ever swam in that pool, they drink to his name, sitting at his favored barstool
At the Sherwood pub up from the Dingles, the thought of that grand catch sets my heart to tingles.
I do not know if the local kids fish the cut near the pool, I still do, but then I’m a silly, teary old fool.
I just hope and pray that when I die at aged 107, I can catch Sticklebacks in a river somewhere in heaven.
Catching fish up in heaven, I believe is no lie, and all the Roughs I save in my jam jar will never die
But will grow into whoppers bigger than me, a lad, there to be caught again by someone like my old dad.
There will be no charge to fish like there was in dad’s day, it would all be free, and he could fish all day.
No bottom to burly the previous night, “Pull me in pop” the fish would gurgle, “I’m holding on tight”.
Oh the time my dear dad would have with his old fishing line, a pulling in whoppers time after time.
What a lovely day he would have fishing in heaven, and I would be there with him when I die at 107.
You thing this a fishy story do you my friend, well you just wait till you die and to heaven they send
You and your disbelieving ways that think heaven to flail, you will find out that this is no fisherman’s tail.
There are fish in heaven and my dad will be there, and he will pull in the whoppers and all catches fair.
He will talk to them saying “Fish you are a great mate, no way will you finish up on my dinner plate”.
His fishing all done off he would go with rod over shoulder, a smile on his face his stride much bolder
And I will shout “Well done dad, you’re a topper, for you caught the biggest fish heaven had to offer”.
Epilogue
And the fish did speak to dad ‘Great catch Stan for I am a loner, it was me that swallowed poor old Jonah
Now Stan show me that chap who thinks these are all tales, and I’ll show him that heaven really does have
WHALES”.