'Twas the night before Christmas,
When all through the land,
Fishermen were angling, finding something for the pan.
The rods were hung in their holders with care,
In hopes that a great lunker soon would be there.
Cold hands were shoved into pockets for heat,
While visions of flopping fish danced at their feet.
And captain at the wheel, and I in my stole,
Had just settled in for a long winter's troll.
When on the end of my line there arose such a clatter,
I sprang into action to see what was the matter.
Away from my thoughts, I flew like a flash,
I grabbed my rod as the fish leaped and splashed.
The sky opened up with some new-fallen snow,
I leaned over the side to see what was below.
When what do my wondering eyes did appear,
But a triploid rainbow,
not hooked well I feared.
The fish veered one way, then this way and that,
The excitement overtook me and I fell on my back.
Dazed and confused, I swear I could hear,
The jingling bells of eighty tiny reindeer.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
Here's to another year of fishing the good fight!