Finally it again was that time of year To begin to lay out his hunting gear It looked just like some hunter collage With stuff scattered over his camouflage He sorted out the things he would need Sat back in his chair and drifted to sleep He dreamed he was on the piece of land Where earlier that year had placed his stand His dad was there also not far from his tree And as the sun came up he started to see Out in the distance about forty yards or so Stood a ten point buck with a couple of doe The doe soon stepped out into a clearing Along with them out stepped a yearling The buck as cautious as it could be Still stay covered by brush and tree As he took aim the doe seemed to scatter He saw to his right what was the matter A big buck with fourteen points or more Stormed into the clearing and let out a roar It grunted a grunt and lowered his head He aimed to shoot but just watched instead As the ten pointer met it with all of his might They twisted, turned and put on a good fight He tried his radio, but his dad wasn’t there Wanting him to see what was happening here Then he watched them fight until they had tired And took aim at the big one again and he fired With the blast of the gun he opened my eyes Out from that great dream only to realize The dream was in hope, some day he’ll be Hearing his son radio him from that exact tree |