There I was fishing rod in hand.
As soon as I had picked up
I was in another place,
Back so many years to that time
When fishing was part of me.
I pulled the line through the rod,
It was as if I hadn’t stopped,
Stopped so many years ago.
I cast the fly line,
Backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards
As I used to back in the day.
The rhythm was still there,
I could still do it,
I could still hit the spot,
The spot where I would see the trout.
It was then decided,
I will go fishing again,
Only this time it will be on water,
Not on a green grassed field!