IN QUEST OF TROUT
(A FISHING LESSON)

SEEKING TROUT, I HIKED ONE DAY
TO A SHADED STREAM WHERE THE RAINBOWS PLAY

BUT AS I REACHED MY SECRET SPOT
KNOWN BUT TO ME OR SO I THOUGHT

I STOOD AGHAST AND IN DESPAIR
FOR AN OLD MAN LAY NAPPING THERE

HIS HEAD WAS PROPPED AGAINST A TREE
HIS BAMBOO ROD LAY ‘CROSS HIS KNEE

“OLD MAN” I SAID AND LOUDLY SPOKE
HE YAWNED AND STRETCHED AS HE AWOKE

AND AS OUR FISHER’S WILLS COLLIDED
“YOU WASTE THIS PLACE” I SOUNDLY CHIDED

HE RAISED ONE EYE AND LOOKING SMUG
REACHED ‘ROUND THE TREE, BROUGHT FORTH A JUG

HIS EYES HE SHADED FROM THE SUN
HE TURNED IT UP BUT OFFERED NONE

“I KNOW A PLACE” THE OLD MAN SPOKE
HE DIDN’T SMILE HE DIDN’T CHOKE

WHERE RAINBOW TROUT ARE THICK AS FLIES
AND YOU NEED BOTH ARMS TO SHOW THEIR SIZE

“OLD MAN YOU’RE DAFT” I SHOWED MY SCORN
“YOU’VE PULLED TOO MUCH UPON YOUR CORN”

“YOUNG MAN” HE SAID “I KNOW NOT WHY
YOU ABUSE ME SO, I’VE TOLD NO LIE

THE JOURNEY THERE IT ISN’T LONG
AND ALL THE WHILE THE STREAM SINGS SONG

IT TAKES A SOUL FROM WOE AND CARE
THE SIMPLE ACT OF GOING THERE

I WAS THERE WHEN YOU CAME TODAY
AND I’LL RETURN WHEN YOU GO AWAY”

~Fred Laird