Day Dreaming Again
© By Grady L. Duncan

After much careful consideration,
I have only one thing to say…
I wouldn’t trade my childhood joys
for all they might offer today.
Those were days centered around
friends, family, church and home,
and any adventurous country boy
could safely frolic and roam.

At times I wish to be young again.
As a young lad I could roam
through woods, along the creek banks,
and rolling hills around our home,
with my constant companion by my side.
Never questioning nor causing delay,
he’d always be more than ready to go,
often wanting to lead the way.

Just a feisty young mixed breed pup,
as carefree as a dog could be.
He’d be my trusty loyal friend,
who’d seem to feel the same about me.
I think I would name him “Amigo.”
That name would fit him so well.
I think that he’d like it too,
giving an approving wag of his tail.

Busy at our favorite pastime,
feverishly digging worms for bait,
he’d seem to know what’s up,
acting like he just can’t wait.
With a tin can full of worms,
and a limber switch-cane pole,
hook, line, and sinker in tact,
we’d head for the old fishing hole.

There, somewhere in the shadows
near the base of a big willow tree,
waits that wily catfish,”Old Whiskers,”
that, for so long, has eluded me.
With a hook baited with juicy worms
placed just so-so there within the deep,
we’d patiently wait for our quest,
trying hard not to fall asleep.

With “Amigo” lying there by my side,
and me, sprawled out on the grass,
we soon would lose track of time,
and maybe several hours would pass.
We would have to get home,
for supper would surely get cold.
We gather our gear and run,
leaving the old fishing hole.

There behind, “Old Whiskers”
has managed to escape his fate,
but he knows it’s not over yet.
We’ll catch him some day, just wait.
But, since this is just a day-dream
with some memories I vaguely recall,
I guess “Old Whiskers’ is glad,
for he might be hung on my wall.

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