Sometimes I get to missin'

The fun we all once had

When to the Creek we'd go a fishin'

With our dear old granddad.



He'd make those little balls of mush

To use on our hooks for bait,

Then we'd all be in a rush

To be first out through the gate.



Then sittin' on the bank of the creek,

With baited hook we'd drop in our line.

We'd go every summer, at least twice a week

And the fishin' there was fine.



Then home we'd go with a big ole batch

For granny to clean and fry.

She'd brag, "My, what a great catch."

And bake us a good ole Apple pie.



Sometimes I get to missin'

The good times we all had,

The fishin' trips were great! But listen!

I'm really missin' dear old granny and granddad.


©Lora Cox
2002
Used With Permission
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