In my woods......
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Nontypical Buck
Joined: Feb 2003
Posts: 2,568
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From: Tennessee
A friend of mine wrote this today and I thought it was good enough to share.
In My Woods
In my woods is where I belong
Where the birds twitter and sing me a song
Deep in the glades sitting in old oak trees
I feel the wind, I hear the rustling of the leaves
In my woods alone even in the dark
Such peace I find in my own little park
Lying in wait for the majestic white tailed deer
Never knowing and always wondering if he will appear
Arrow knocked and my heart pounding loud
The king of the forest strolls in tall and proud
Without a doubt this is the beast
Who’s tender flesh will provide my winters feast
With bow drawn back and an aim so true
The arrows arching flight passes through my view
With a ghostly premonition he crouches like a cat
My glistening sharp arrow passes harmlessly over his back
All in an instant the woods are still
Leaving me shaking but not from the mornings chill
The sun is high as I make take my leave from the wood
But for a moment I stand where the monarch stood
Shaking my head in studious wonder
I study what he has just taught me then go home to ponder
Late that night as I ready for the morn, my hunting wares
I ask myself this question….who says that hunting is not fair?
In My Woods
In my woods is where I belong
Where the birds twitter and sing me a song
Deep in the glades sitting in old oak trees
I feel the wind, I hear the rustling of the leaves
In my woods alone even in the dark
Such peace I find in my own little park
Lying in wait for the majestic white tailed deer
Never knowing and always wondering if he will appear
Arrow knocked and my heart pounding loud
The king of the forest strolls in tall and proud
Without a doubt this is the beast
Who’s tender flesh will provide my winters feast
With bow drawn back and an aim so true
The arrows arching flight passes through my view
With a ghostly premonition he crouches like a cat
My glistening sharp arrow passes harmlessly over his back
All in an instant the woods are still
Leaving me shaking but not from the mornings chill
The sun is high as I make take my leave from the wood
But for a moment I stand where the monarch stood
Shaking my head in studious wonder
I study what he has just taught me then go home to ponder
Late that night as I ready for the morn, my hunting wares
I ask myself this question….who says that hunting is not fair?
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Risnerpse11
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10-08-2008 12:57 PM




