NaturesOde

  Painting by Homer Watson So that’s why we keeps the dog. Buddy. Bloodhound. Goes huntin down Visitors. Gettin lost on the winding Laneway in from Township Line Eleven. Sharp turn right At the entrance Hides any semblance of Maintained dirt road. But make that turn slowly An you will see biggest Catfish pond in these parts. Yassur. Last August we spied a giant In muddy waters, jest resting. Took Tad Wilson’s boy One full week to Map his wanderings And finally ketch the critter With a hook packed with corn. And the surrounding waters Seeded with same. Strangely the boy was  Somewhat saddened by The outcome. A Legend of perseverance Laid low. Perhaps the search had Been the better part. Next the Visitors see to The left three acres of taters And pepper squash. Buddy will dig around there Jest fur mischief sake. Really gets into it. Even after a rain…muddy outcome. He will finally sniff Out the Visitors near The woodlot of mountain ash. Starts with his baying. An we know then Time to put

  A feller isn't thinkin' mean,  Out fishin';  His thoughts are mostly  good  an'  clean ,  Out fishin'.  He doesn't knock his fellow men.,  Or harbor any grudges then;  A feller's at his finest when  Out fishin'.  The rich are comrades to the  poor ,  Out fishin';  All brothers of a common lure,  Out fishin'.  The urchin with the pin an' string  Can chum with millionaire an'  king ;  Vain  pride  is a forgotten thing,  Out fishin'.  A feller gits a  chance  to  dream ,  Out fishin';  He learns the beauties of a stream,  Out fishin';  An' he can  wash  his  soul  in air  That isn't foul with  selfish  care,  An' relish  plain  and  simple  fare,  Out fishin'.  A feller has no  time  fer  hate ,  Out fishin';  He isn't eager to be  great ,  Out fishin'.  He isn't thinkin' thoughts of pelf,  Or goods stacked high upon a shelf,  But he is always just himself,  Out fishin'.  A feller's