Smitty’s Cabin … (another poem)

When I was a tiny tot

With no cares of my own

Out in pa’s fishing boat

For hours we’d oft roam

Once we were out there fishing

(‘Twas that sunny time of the year)

Near Smitty’s long rocky island

We cast our rods near

Now waiting is something

You quite often do

When fishing for bass

Your minnow to chew

A miracle, a moment

Is all it will take

When a bass will jump up

And strike your fresh bait

It was early that morning

When to our utter surprise

Smoke from the near pine tops

We saw slowly arise

We approached Smitty’s island

Looking for others before

But no boats could we see

Drawn up on the shore

The closer we got

The thicker the smoke

The treetops were smoldering

Beneath a black overcoat

We pulled up to the shoreline

Our rods all entangled

And gazed through the underbrush

To see much maimed and mangled

We anchored up the bow

And stepped off of the boat

(My brother was eager –

His boots, they got soaked)

We clambered brave inland

Not sure what we’d find

Dad’s sure foot went before us

Behind him we climbed

Then sudden, and frightening

There rose up before us

The sharp talons of Hades

Fierce, fiery and focused

My father fast held me -

“Quick! Run for the pail!

The minnows toss over –

And watch for that nail !”

As I ran to the water

My mind, I admit,

Did think of his thoughtfulness

At a time such as this

I pulled up that bucket

And dumped out the fish

With care for that nail

The latch I unhitched

I ran quick through the forest

As fast as I could

The bucket a’clanging against

Those charred smoky woods

I called to my father

Lost now in the gloom

“Where are you, dear Daddy?”

“Here love! Come quick! And come soon!”

In a small clearing I found him

My brother and he

Fast digging a ditch

On bent hand and knee

He grabbed that old bucket

And started to scrape

At that rocky terrain

A shallow fire wall to make

The heat was infernal

The flames flew askance

As that fire slow approached us

We had only one chance

I dove to the ground

And yanked back that wet moss

To get to the bedrock

Or soon all would be lost

The hell fire was upon us

Backed by a wild wicked wind

The flames were a’swirlin’

Like Hades proud children

Up to our barrier

They licked and they scratched

My brave father threw wet moss

To crush their broad backs

The beasts roared mean and mighty

At this foe come up anew

We just kept on a’hurlin’

That wet moss of dew

Slowly those crazed creatures

Backed down their assault

And the woods were saved for tomorrow

By our stellar efforts

As the smoke finally cleared

From our nose and our eyes

Our hopes were lift up

By yet another surprise

There stood Smitty’s small cabin

Amidst the fallen debris

Bright white like a beacon

But how could this be?

Dad grinned ever so slowly

Through his mud spattered visage

“Nature sure works strange miracles -

Like catching fresh bass!”