Children become restless…bored,
And, old folks do…too;
So, my Dad and Gramma had a plan,
Something great…that we could do.
“As soon as the snowplow finishes plowing,
“We’ll load-up the car;
“And, then we’ll be off,
“Although it’s close-by…not too far.”
Gramma packed a hearty lunch,
Of sandwiches and hot cocoa;
Dad loaded the ICE FISHING gear and sled,
Then, we were off…through the snow.
The lake was frozen solid,
At least a foot or two;
And, Dad…with his axe,
Chopped away…he knew just what to do.
In no time at all…the hole was chopped,
And, the ICE FISHING gear was lowered;
Now, it was time to have some fun,
As, across the lake…we dashed!
Gramma was catching me…as I fell,
For the ice was very slippery;
Dad was pulling sister…on the sled,
And, the wind…across the lake…was snowy, blowy!
Yes, the wind was really howling,
And, the snow…swirling about;
At times…we could hardly see,
To hear each other…we had to shout!
My scarf were pulled…way up,
Quite above my nose;
And, my feet…well,
They felt like they were froze!
After a nice cup of hot cocoa,
And, a sandwich…besides;
We were soon ‘fit as a fiddle’,
So, off…for another slide!
Sister and I…had great fun,
She on the sled and me…running;
I don’t know if Dad caught any fish that day,
But, right now…I’m having a good time…remembering!
June 28, 2004
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