“The Lake”

eyes on the lake

Down by the lake with the tackle box and bait

Sun disappears behind the distant tree line

A painters sky stays behind, and the fishers wait

Bobbers floating, bullfrogs croaking; the peace is divine

Night crawlers, Minos, and lily pads

Fresh cut grass, corn fields, and nature’s mass

Young kids restless, while poles are prepared by dads

Sinkers, hooks, and a case of beer to make it last

Fishing until the sun tells us it’s getting late

Down by the lake with the tackle box and bait

 

 

 

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