The angler rises early, and has not time to dally

He requires food and fuel from a warm and trusty ally.

Across the Mid Atlantic lay the perfect place for gas and eats

Every fisherman worth his flies knows the Ballad of Sheetz.

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In the cities and small towns, at humble country junctions

Ubiquitous red and yellow signs serve identical functions.

Beckoning all travelers into their brick and mortar

To tap upon the wond’rous spectacle that is Made to Order.

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After filling up the tank, he will enter the store

Perhaps to empty the other tank, or fill it up once more.

But then the screen so magical draws the eye and hand

To select Schmiscuit or Shmuffin – possibilities so grand.

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While the meal is conjured, with great precision and care

Weary eyes and minds seek the elixir that first drew them there.

Roasted in Sumatra, or in a style found in France

Coffee brewed fresh and ready erases the morning’s “can’ts.”

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Upon browsing pastries and Wonka-esque confections

Another item is found and bought, aligned with his affections.

When the number called aloud matches that of your paper slip

A bag is exchanged, thank yous are said, and then back to your trip.

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Driving to the stream that morn, eager for a day of trout,

“How will the morning start?” There is no shadow of a doubt.

For whatever the angler encounters, or hardship that he meets

His adventure’s song is one and true: the victorious Ballad of Sheetz.