I awoke this morning to that wonderous thrill
of a robin singing there upon my windowsill
Out on the lawn in the grasses dewy green
the Gackles were strutting their shimmering sheen
The Jays sharply scolding, for no apparent reason
other than joy for the changing of season
A cardinal sat preening his feathers so red
there on the roof of my old fishing shed
The chipmunks were scampering with their tails held high
keeping close watch of the hawk in the sky
With spring now here, warmer weather will soon follow
along with Jenny Wren and the slick Barn Swallow
I guess I will mend my fishing gear
I just might be around to use it next year.
The Old Fisherman
