when the clock rang six and the season began
to the river we sprang and on this date
the count was four and all before eight
oh yes the fish came fast and in a flurry
and tasted great in a hot butter slurry
perch, pumpkin seed, pike, a husky tiger
blue gill, smallies rang up like tics on a geiger
some'at tells me to stop the tale here
and go get something that looks like beer
happy opening to all ...
Way to start the season creeky, those are nice eating size eyes,love the poem