‘Twas the eve of Walleyetide, when all through the Upper Peninsula
Not a fish was stirring, not even a creek-chub;
The rods and reels were rigged by the docks with care,
In hopes that St. Walleye soon would be there;
The fishermen were nestled all snug in their camps;
While visions of golden bellies swam through their heads;
When out on the lake there arose such a splash,
The fishermen sprang from their bunks to see it in a flash,
When what to their wondering eyes did they see,
But a miniature walleye pulled by eight tiny muskie,
With a little tail flash as they went by,
They knew in a moment it must be ol’ St. Walleye,
More rapid than steelhead his muskies they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now Yellow! Now Blue! Now Pikeperch and Pickerel!
On Sauger! On Saugeye! On Golden and Ol’ Marble-Eye!
To the top of the water! to the top of the falls!
Now swim away! Swim away! Swim away all!”
So up in the water column they swam,
With a creel full of terminal tackle, lures, and St. Walleye too,
And then in a crashing they heard on the shore,
The slap and slurp of each little splash,
As they turned their heads and looked around,
Down the rapids St. Walleye came with a bound,
He was dressed all in scales, from his gills to his tail,
A bundle of lures he had flung on his back,
His eyes- how they twinkled! His fins were so slimy,
He had sharp teeth, and a golden round belly,
He spoke not a word, but swam straight to work,
And filled all the tackle boxes with lures and hooks,
And giving a scale flash, up the rapids he swam,
He jumped in his creel, to his musky he whistled,
And away they all swam like wild spooked trout,
But they heard him exclaim, ere he swam out of sight-
“Merry Walleyetide to all, and to all a good opener!”
Looking forward to Walleye opener tomorrow. Good luck to all you Walleye fishermen in the UP. Go get 'em.
As always.
Catch.
Release.
Wander.
C'est la vie.
Pura vida.
Carpe diem.