The tidal water of the Onkaparinga
Create the place where I choose to linger.
The young fisher boy fills two hooks with bait
While across the river I watch and wait.
Every weekend, he’s here on his patch
of this river, where I share his catch.
Then seeing the movement of the boy’s hands,
I fly over blue water onto the sands.
Under the water the silver fish flash in the sun
And then come out with a splash.
I waddle up closer. He reels in the line.
I’m ever so patient, there’s plenty of time.
Catching two at time, the news it is hot
That the Onkaparinga is a good fishing spot
There’s fish for me and enough for the kids
To take home in the buckets covered with lids.
My friend turns to leave I return to the water
To catch my own fish, just like I oughta.
remembering happy times spent with a feathered friend and our grandson.