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 |
