Waitin’ For A Bite

A barefoot boy I stood upon

      The little bridge uv plank,

Or down beneath the cottonwood

      Along the shady bank;

A crooked pole within my hands

      My heart tilled with delight,

My eyes agleam upon the stream,

      Jes’ waitin’ for a bite

What tho’ the nibble never come

      To strip my bent-pin hook?

‘Twas joy enough fur me to be

      Down there beside the brook.

An’ thus I passed the happy hours,

     Ha’f hidden out uv sight,

In idle dream beside the stream

     While waitin’ fur a bite.

The years hev come an’ gone since then,

     I’ve lingered by the brook

Uv life where trade goes rushing by,

     With ready line an’ hook.

I’ve stood upon the crowded bank,

     By day, and then by night;

I’ve angled there in storm an’ fair

     Jest waitin’ fur a bite.

I’ve waited fur the fish, “success”,

     To come an’ bite my pin;

They come an’ sniff like them uv old,

     An’ then swim off ag’in.

Yet still I’m standin’ on the bank,

     Frum mornin’ until night,

An’ I shall stay the same old way

     Until I get a bite.

March 22, ‘08