Twas the night before whitetail deer, antlered with rifle
And beside me was stirring the mouse in my wall
My camo laid out in a pile in my room
To prepare for the morning which would come all too soon
My father was nestled all snug in his bed
While visions of twelve points danced in his head.
And I ‘neath thick blankets and in fleece PJ’s
Was too excited to sleep because of opening day.
Cause a friend of my brother has seen a monster buck
And I’m crossing fingers and toes for good luck
An 8 point he says with 13 inch tines
And a 23 inch spread hangs out in the swamp pines
I guess that I’ll shoot the first buck that I see
But I’m hoping it’s him, that he’s destined for me
And when the clock inches past six fifty-five
He’ll be in my sites and I’ll let the lead fly
I’ll be perched on a cable spool on a bench on the hill
With wide views all around for making my kill
Above me a large field and a deer trail by my side
Beneath me a swamp where deer like to hide
I’ll wait near the edge of our private ground
For locals in the game lands to push deer around
They’ll be funneled down into my ravine
Where I will see them without being seen.
And elsewhere on other parts of our range
People I love will be doing the same
Beside cable spools or on the tower will stand
My brother, my father, and our friend Sam.
We can’t see everywhere but we can sure try
We’re well spread out with views wide and high
They get a chance at the deer I don’t see
And the deer that they miss should filter through me
For now I’m in bed and fighting for dreams
But when you’ve got the fever it’s harder than it seems
So if you’re also too excited to sleep tonight…
Good luck and straight shooting and a deer at first light.
1. I don't think this is the first time I have abused this poem. If it were a better poem or harder to do I probably would leave it alone.
2. WHY AM I NOT SLEEPING?!?!?!?
1 comment:
Still waiting for the rest of the story so I can uncross my fingers.
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