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The days spent down the Lodge with Dad,

were the best I ever knew.

We’d sit for hours with our fishing rods,

eating ham butties followed by a brew.

We never bothered about the weather,

and some days it was as cold as could be.

If it was wet we’d sit under a big umbrella,

together, my Dad and me.

I never wanted those days to end.

Sometimes we never got a single catch,

then we’d trudge back home, frozen and damp.

I can still hear the sound of the back door latch.

Then we’d stand with our backs to the fireplace,

just drying out, my Dad and me, whilst

taking in the aroma of stew and dumplings,

as Mum passed us both a big mug of tea.

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