Pam Davies
A fisherman bold, with a bit of a cold, 
Set off in search of a lake.
Loaded rods and his hooks and a couple of books,
In a car, with suspicious brakes!
A sneeze and a snuffle. He's done up his duffle.
He's baited his hook with a worm.
He's cast out his line, in a swim that looks fine,
And he's planted his rod where it's firm.
Now for the flask, a much easier task,
He sips as he sits and he waits.
He watches his float and he dreams of a boat,
And the sun and a scotch and a mate!
Oh! look it's bobbing. His pulses are throbbing.
Forgotten his cold and the gale.
But will it bite. He must strike it right.
You would think he was playing a whale!
No, it's too late. It's taken his bait.
What's more, his line, it is broke'.
Reeling back in, he curses the swim,
And prays that the villain will choke!
Hearing a sound, he quickly looks round,
As his car rolls away through the clover!
It slides in the lake, given up by the brake.
If you can't catch a fish... RUN 'EM OVER!!
The end