Reminiscence

Wandering, in memory, down river lake and stream,
age changes not the images, nor yet the waking dream,
but old age changes other things, as life wears on the mind,
though still a youth in spirit, the body lags behind.

The thoughts and hopes of yesteryear, have given way at last,
one is forced to realise, that some things are now past,
life goes on of course, but in a different vein,
some things change, some disappear, and some things stay the same.

Roaming, wandering, fishing, once the reason for existence,
no longer drives, is only held by habit, and by sheer persistence.
The fish, once untold prizes, gained by list and artful labour,
now taste blunt and sad, have lost their youthful savour.

Why fish at all? The shops are full of piscene delectation,
Of course without the thrill, the feel, the wild elation.
Many now, will never know the things you knew,
anglers are now many, and the fish are all too few.

Does it really matter? These things will not be missed,
when the fish are gone, then anglers will perforce desist.
Tradition? The hopes and dreams of many generations,
will be no more, why lose oneself in useless lamentations?

Computers, television, these things are all the rage,
with which the children nowadays,their time engage,
And are they wrong? I do not know, I fear I never will,
my soul wandered other ways, it´s longing to fulfill.

Still and all, one wishes to bequeath at least a notion,
an inkling, maybe just a faint idea, of river, lake, and ocean.
Not just wavering electrons in a vacuum glass,
But how? Aye there´s the rub, alas.

TL
MC