It was the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.
It was supposed to be slow, it was over too fast.
The tug on the line, the reel spinning out,
The bass was insistent, to put up a bout.
I reeled in the line, the pull bent the rod,
The fish breached the water, and gave us a nod,
Shaking and splashing, not liking the hook,
It wanted its freedom, said those eyes with a look.
The net dipped under the beautiful bass,
And out of the water, he came with a splash.
A kilo of fish makes a fine meal for two,
You know it is fresh, it was just caught by you.
The rod and the reel will come out next week,
The fish will be hungry, and swimming so deep,
We’ll do it again, the first tasted so good,
It’s back to the lake by the beautiful wood.