Don’t turn your back on the Rye
We have
a friend and from her source to her end,
She’s
more classy than Itchen or Tweed.
She’s
friendly and warm and bustles along, past hedges and bridges and reed.
She’s
lovely and dear, but these past years she’s shed tears,
When her
anglers just cast her aside,
Now
she’s had some work done to her face and her bum,
So fish
her, and restore her pride.
In the
summer she’s low and her bones start to show,
And her lush reeds get burnt to a
stalk.
But somewhere in there, the trout
still have their lairs,
For you know they can’t get out
and walk.
Don’t go drive,n for miles you’ll just end up with piles,
Instead just go down where you’re
wanted.
it’s for her daughters and sons
that she’s had the work done,
So fish her, and just let her
flaunt it!
She’s proud of her trout, she won’t
just give them out,
She’ll make you work hard for your
thrill.
But when she gives up a trout
don’t, take him out,
For they’re far too precious to
kill.
So if during the season, so you
don’t lose your reason,
You need to go casting a fly,
With a few hours to spend, go see
an old friend
and don’t turn your back on the Rye.
( By
Mattie Cunningham.)
