Steve Scarborough sent me this awesome poem from the October 1942 edition of Tattler, the official newsletter of the National Association of Angling & Casting Clubs (NAACC). It was written by Leta M. Burdick.
Heritage of American Boyhood
by Leta M. Burdick
With fishpoles and lunches they drove away
My little son and his father, today.
I watched through a rainbow of happy tears,
Saw life unfold down the vista of years.
No boy could ever turn out bad
Who'd studied life with a Fisherman Dad.
A vision of all the American boys
Who'd known with their dads, a fisherman's joys
Came crowding my mind. Why, souls once so free
To Dictator never could bow the knee!
They've traded their rods for knapsacks and guns--
America's army of Fisherman's Sons.
They're fighting for more than their lives, it seems,
They're fighting for Boyhood's freedoms and dreams
That sons left at home and sons yet unborn
May still whip the streams in the dew of the morn.
Dear Friend of the Fishers of Galilee,
Help us keep America's trout streams free.
-- Dr. Todd
No comments:
Post a Comment