WRITE A "BOP" POEM - A COMBINATION SONNET + A SONG
FISHING GONE
Rising before the sun
Has shone the way
For day
Papa shoveled a pile
Of dark rich soil
At my feet
Oh what a day for fishing
Hordes of squirming
Worms I plucked up
With my fingers into
An empty tin can and
Out we headed into
Early dawn darkness papa
Leading the way
Deep into the woods
Oh what a day for fishing
While down at the creek
Papa fished I stood by
Catching fish he caught
Putting them in a tub
Flipping flapping slipping
Waiting for fishing to be over
Oh what a day for fishing
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