The Pond

Often wish I could return
to that pond of distant memory.
The fish there never failed to bite,
at least not in my history.
A spot more perfect in it's design
never could be found.
It had stumps and logs in the right places
and shade trees all around.
The weather seemed always right
with gentle breeze and lots of sun.
Caught the first bass of my life.
Man it sure was fun.
Several pounds of fighting fury
exploded before my eyes.
Looked and sounded like a bomb
had dropped from clear blue sky.
When it tried to jerk the rod and reel
clean out of my hands.
Adrenaline flowed into my arms
and that's where I made my stand.
It was just a fish, nothing more,
but somehow a connection was made.
Guess it was his wanting to be free
and swim back beneath the shade.
I caught him though, and held him,
but just for a little while.
Then eased him back into the water.
Do you believe a fish can smile?
Often times I do return
to that pond of distant memory.
The fish there never fail to bite,
at least not in my history.