The Boy, His Fishin' Pole, and His Dog

It didn’t take much to bring him joy
As he wandered far and wide
Just a worm at the end of his fishin’ pole
And his old dog at his side.

There wasn’t a pond or stream nearby
Where he hadn’t fished every hole
He traipsed from one to another
With his dog and that old fishin’ pole.

The fish he knew, were kinda small
No bigger’n the back of his hand
A bluegill, a perch, perhaps a pout
Kinda small, but fun to land.

And as he fished he dreamed a dream
Of the fish he would one day log
At a pond or stream where the sun never set
The boy, his fishin’ pole, and his dog.