Casting the line over glass like waters,
Float coming to rest on the unseen bond of air.
The lure of the insect so irresistible,
we watch with a fisherman's stare.

Hour upon hour sitting and staring into space,
Umbrella positioned strategically over head.
The rain mercilessly poring onto the water,
Soaks the fisherman he wonders why he is not in bed.

The line moves; slowly jerking ,
Then more as the fish takes a bite.
The fisherman takes a strong hold,
He is ready for the fight.

The spool whizzes round and round,
Faster And faster as it spins and takes it's toll .
The fisherman holds; and pulls in the line,
As the fish really takes control.

At last the fisherman lands him,
A ten pound-er really, "for sure"
His buddies in the pub do believe him,
As his tiddler flounders on the shore.