On the Dock

Only the dock could offer such a playground paradise of perch
Nibbling lines. Papa sings hymns softly, setting the mood of Eden.

The laughter of sister, the savory smell of freedom, that only
Happens when nature sets the stage. Dipping dangling toes barely deep
Enough to ripple the riverbank of water that comforts Earth.

Dancing inside so as not to break the peace, savoring the moments
On God's great creation, memories of family and frolic.
Concocting imaginary tales of land and sea, secretly
Knowing nothing's better than fishing with Papa, sister, and me.

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