ANGLING - THE CLUB WAY (A POEM BY OUR TALENTED WRITER/FISHERWOMAN JAN STRINGER)

I am new to this sport,
It's a whole new gig.
I sit and contemplate, what type of rig?

What am I fishing for:
Bream, tommies or gar?
Oh deary me - my bait's in the car!

I must have it all now,
I've been back there twice.
Oh deary me - I've forgotten the ice!

My language is bad,
Must keep it toned down.
It's supposed to be fun - so what's with my frown?

Finally a line in,
It's out in the water.
My phone starts to ring - it may be my daughter.

So I answer, of course
And miss my first bite.
Oh please try again fish - I'm up for the fight!

The sun's coming up,
They tell me that's when
You fish will be hungry - or maybe at ten.

It's the top of the tide,
They should come on the bite,
Or maybe not - cos my line is a sight!

It's on the far bank
Caught up in a tree.
I cast it too far - oh deary me!

I pull and I tug,
It's not giving way.
I get out a knife - cut it off in dismay.

Back to my tackle box
To make a new rig.
Don't get upset Jan - their fish aren't that big!

Just keep on trying,
You must persevere.
You will win a comp one day - but it may be next year!