“There’s a fly rod hanging on the wall”
There’s a fly rod hanging on the wall
and my fishing vest is lying in the hall.
No longer can I answer Salmo trutta’s call.
You ask me why the teardrops fall,
it’s cos that fly rod’s just hanging on the wall.
There’s my trout net hooked behind the door
alongside the waders that I always wore.
My faded parka’s hooked up in the hall,
and that lonely fly rod’s hanging on the wall.
With my fly box full of nymphs and dries,
I’d answer angling’s call under our clear blue skies
I would walk down to my favourite haunts,
Forever watching my fly line’s swinging flow,
but Covid’s lockdown’s killed those hallowed jaunts.
They’ve gone the way our angling days must go.
For the lure of Pisces I can no longer answer to the call
Now my fly rod’s sadly hanging on the wall
Well, I know you folks will think I’m crazy.
But I don’t care just what you say.
This lock-down hit my angling urge like a squall
and you’ll understand just why I’m grieving this way.
Our Jacinda has laid down the law for us all
All fishing’s off the agenda was her call,
so now my fly rod’s hanging on the wall.
Together we rambled o’er this mountain land;
that trusty rod’s always in my right hand
It’s served this fisho for many long years.
An angler never had a more useful friend.
So I’m not ashamed of all my tears.
That fly rod’s been faithful to the end.
We’ve been told to stay home and play ball
So my fly rods just hanging on the wall
I recall being out quite late one night
when I saw a rise out on the lake.
It was clear that this fish was on the bite:
a trophy trout, so big my knees began to shake.
I knew just where my fly I had to cast.
The hook-up’s force would’ve caused other rods to break
But that fly rod flexed and bent until at last,
I landed the biggest catch for all that year.
That’s why that rod is my best friend, my essential piece of gear.
.
For now my fly rod’s sadly hanging on the wall,
No longer can I answer Salmo trutta’s call.
This fishing season’s tally is destined for a fall.
The old angling pull must sadly hit the wall,
so my fly rod is hanging on the wall.
Rex N. Gibson
With apologies to Carson Robison (1936) song – “There’s a bridle hanging on the wall”
