The Fishing Trip Poem by Ross DixPeek

The Fishing Trip

By
Ross Dix-Peek


Oh, How I remember those fishing trips with my Dad
Ah, They made me so very, very glad
Up at three in the morn
Long before the coming of the dawn

My father assembling all his fishing tackle
So very gleeful, a laugh and a cackle
“Have you got the bait boy, ready to go? ”
“Yes, Dad”, and away we would go, all in tow

In our dear old “Landie” the rugged road was ne’er a problem
As we traversed the winding dirt tracks, and some
Ah, the window down and the wind in my hair
The smell of fresh bait a waft in the air

Rugged Africa all about, myriad of sounds ringing out
My dear old Dad gaily whistling, as we headed south
A cigarette forever dangling from his smiling mouth
And all the while the great African sun beats down

And then to the river waters we would come
Excitement in the air and then some
Dad would sit and the waters study
A swig of Coca-Cola, and then we were ready

The fishing gear debouched
Us along the river bank crouched
Rods dangling in the silver stream
Waiting for our first catch, possibly bream

Ah, those days, those days were so fine
The scorching sun upon my spine
Sitting next to my beloved Dad
Ah, but those days be gone now, really quite sad!

Anyway, with our great bundle of fish in tow
We would finally onward to home go,
But now years later my dear old Dad is dead
Only those wonderful memories do remain in my head
So, if you with your Dad fishing do go
And the seeds of bonding do sow
Don’t the time wish away
For there will come a day
When your dear old Dad no longer is there,
And wasted time together is too awful a cross to bear!