Our Fishing Pond

A fine summer day indeed had come,
our poles and basket were all packed.



Giggling as we hiked to our secret hideaway
along the hidden pathway in the country.



The ole fishing hole appeared,
and we spread our blanket forth.



Kicking off our shoes and socks,
so cool in the meadow grasses,
you winked an eye and wickedly laughed.



Tearing towards the water you flung off your sundress,
leaping in the water with glee.
Laughing out loud,
and following suit,
we skinny dipped til three.



As we lay there drying,
on our makeshift summer bed,
I marveled at your beauty,
and at the love we both had shared.



The fishing may never be the same,
and the fish will never recover,
but today my dear we shared much more,
and became eternal lovers.





~Author Michael Garland~




 

Music composed by Warren Trachtman