A poem about potter count trout fishing i found
A Native's Springtime
The geese have all flown northward
and the bluebird's been around.
From the smell of native's breath
the leeks are through the ground.
Old winter's back is broken
the creek has begun to rise
and one can't help thinking
of his fish pole and flies.
As we look about us
and see the sights of spring
We are glad we are alive
and can enjoy everything.
Yes, I enjoy springtime
everyone does, no doubt.
But, how empty it would be
if we didn't have any trout.
When your troubles get the best of you
and seem like ugly dreams
Just take out your boots and pole
and spend a day along the streams
You may catch a brookie in the riffles,
You may catch a brownie in a hole
but being next to nature
is tonic to your soul
After a day of fishing
even if you've caught but one or two
You'll find the trouble lifting
and the sun will be shining through.
If I were a medical doctor
the tonic I would advise
A day along the streams
under Potter County Skies
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