'Gone Fishing' Poem by Joyce Hemsley

'Gone Fishing'



Sylvia searched the whole house over
Calling out her lover's name...
He was not there, oh no ~ oh no,
He was hooked on the fishing game.

Down to the water he had gone,
Whether the sport was right or wrong!
The river was his hideaway,
So peaceful, on a warm summer's day.

Sweet Sylvia disliked the hobby,
Thought the fish could feel the pain.
She saw them struggle for their freedom
But Sylvia would never complain.

Now to wait three hours, or more.
Until that key turned in the door,
And he would greet his Sylvia dear
All laden down with his fishing gear.

And tomorrow morning may well be the same
'cause he was hooked on the fishing game.

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Joyce Hemsley

Joyce Hemsley

Portsmouth England
Close
Error Success