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Old Frank, who's sometimes known as the Harnser
I have always had a feeling that he knows the answer
Silently stalking the reeds like a lancer
He knows the ways of the frog's newts and fishes
Doesn't rely on chance hopes or mere wishes
Stalking the reed beds whilst mortals are sleeping
Patiently watching, his vigil he's keeping.
I wonder if he notices when the sun glides through the reeds
Dancing on the waters and fulfilling natures needs
One thing I am sure of, is that some folk work and worry
And dream to do as he does, but are always in a hurry
Chasing rainbows but the character is weak
Whilst others can just do so, their will power at its peak
Whilst for him it just comes natural, an independent fellow.
The sentinel who watches as the moon turns yellow
A fisherman who teaches all, that patience is the answer,
The angler who patrols the reeds Old frank, our friend the Harnser
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