Rustic Paradise

Settin’ in a leaky boat

With a pole an’ line an’ float,

Waitin’ for a fish to bite

Is the chief uv my delight.

Waitin’ fur the bob to sink

In the blue, reflected drink;

Waitin’ fur the pole to bend

With a fish upon the end.

Ain’t no place I ever see

Where that I would ruther be

Than ol’ “Lizzard” days like this

Soakin’ in her summer bliss;

Settin’ in a leaky boat

With a cider jug afloat,

Holdin’ on a white birch pole

In the shade o’ “Bullhead Hole”.

Airships an’ sech fillergree

Don’t hev any claims fur me;

Wouldn’t take an auto ride

‘Wuz I paid fur it beside.

Ez fur settin’ on the stoop

Talkin’ with some nincompoop

But the weather, no sir-ee,

“Lizzard Crick’s” the spot fur me!

“Lizzard Crick” an’ “Bullhead Hole”,

Rest there fur a weary soul;

Water smooth as glass and fair,

With the sky reflected there.

Shadders deep along the shore –

Who could ask fur any more?

Furren places? No sir-ee,

“Lizard Crick” will do for me!

June 30, ‘10