Just Folks

Fishing Nooks

          "Men will grow weary," said the Lord,
          "Of working for their bed and board.
          They'll weary of the money chase
          And want to find a resting place
          Where hum of wheel is never heard
          And no one speaks an angry word,
          And selfishness and greed and pride
          And petty motives don't abide.
          They'll need a place where they can go
          To wash their souls as white as snow.
          They will be better men and true
          If they can play a day or two."

          The Lord then made the brooks to flow
          And fashioned rivers here below,
          And many lakes; for water seems
          Best suited for a mortal's dreams.
          He placed about them willow trees
          To catch the murmur of the breeze,
          And sent the birds that sing the best
          Among the foliage to nest.
          He filled each pond and stream and lake
          With fish for man to come and take;
          Then stretched a velvet carpet deep
          On which a weary soul could sleep.

          It seemed to me the Good Lord knew
          That man would want something to do
          When worn and wearied with the stress
          Of battling hard for world success.
          When sick at heart of all the strife
          And pettiness of daily life,
          He knew he'd need, from time to time,
          To cleanse himself of city grime,
          And he would want some place to be
          Where hate and greed he'd never see.
          And so on lakes and streams and brooks
          The Good Lord fashioned fishing nooks.