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Fishing on Laurel Creek
Nearing the stream as I approach
On nature’s territory do I encroach
The dense jungle of mountain laurel
Setting the backdrop for the forests natural choral
The morning light glimmering off of the water
Insects jittering, unknown of their imminent slaughter
The beast below leaps to engulf his platter
The surface of the water seems to shatter
My fly kisses the water’s surface with the swing of my rod
The trout does not yet realize the fly’s façade
He sips from the surface to claim his morsel
My rod instantly performs a reversal
The hook of the fly pierces
However, the trout is the fiercest
As the trout shoots upstream
My reel begins to scream
Jumping and splashing, and putting up a fight
The fish is really full of might
Although the fish is fighting for his life
He cannot overcome this overpowering strife
After he has given his last retaliation
He begins to move at the rod’s dictation
Swimming right into the net
The old brook trout can do nothing but fret
As tasty as this fish looks
I remove the hooks
And I let the fish swim loose to live again
I return him to his watery reign
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