David Schmitz
167w
The Dying Fisherman’s Song, or The Raving of Sir Rupt
Dad used to say this poem, quite a bit while I was growing up. As a result, we all learned it by memory. As dad grew older and had grand children, he passed on the same poem. It brings a smile on my face when I hear it or think about it … Twas a hot summer day in the winter The snow was raining fast Two bare footed boys with their shoes on Stood sitting in the grass Back the back, they faced each other Drew their swords and shot each other A deaf cop heard the noise And came and rescued the two dead boys.
