Sitting on the ditch bank,
Fishing in a steam,
Waiting for a fish bite,
And dreaming up a dream.Clouds turn into castles,
The birds as dragons fly,
Trees are sighing maidens,
A knight so bold am I.
Clad in shining metal,
I'm armed up to the teeth,
Oh dastardly villains!
I bring you naught but grief.
Something tugs my dream sword,
I heave it strong and stout.
And my dreams of knight deeds
Fade to a slimy trout.
©R. Bartly Betts, 2001
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