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The Old Fisherman On The Creek Bank
The old timer looked forward to his daily catch.
He would sit on the banks of the creek just before dawn.
Sipping from his coffee cup that came from his thermos.
Cane pole in hand and an old tattered straw hat on his head waiting on the sun.
Plop plop the sound of the cork hitting the water and then back out with a fish.
Into the bucket it would go; but not without a word said.
He would brag about the fish in that creek to the people back in town.
They all never caught a thing.
The old timer had a trail down the backside of the creek. A path God made just for him.
No one knew.
Whispering soft words of prayer with every fish he did catch.
Starting his day first with;
“Good morning Father, How are you today?”
Thank you for allowing me to meet with you this way,
On the backside of this creek
Thank you for my wife and kids,
My shelter and the fish of the day
This place is so beautiful; I tell everyone in town.
They all think I’m talking to myself sitting on the backside of this creek.
Father I remember the days I stood on the other side just as they do today;
Wondering and wishing to see as I do now.
The morning brisk and cool
The water calm and warm
I thank you Father for the fish I do
My life safe from harm
To sit here on the banks of Jordan
Thank you for my prayer and songs.
©9/20/10 Sharon Smith