Thank You For Visiting

Texas Bob's World

............................................................................

Listen with Windows Media Player Plug-in



A HUNTERíS POEM

 



A hunter shot at a flock of geese
That flew within his reach.
Two were stopped in their rapid flight
And fell on the sandy beach.


The male bird lay at the waterís edge
And just before he died
He faintly called to his wounded mate
And she dragged herself to his side.


She bent her head and crooned to him
In a way distressed and wild
Caressing her one and only mate
As a mother would a child.


Then covering him with her broken wing
And gasping with failing breath
She laid her head against his breast
A feeble honk ---then death.


This story is true though crudely told
I was the man in this case.
I stood knee deep in snow and cold
And the hot tears burned my face.


I buried the birds in the sand where they lay
Wrapped in my hunting coat
And I threw my gun and belt in the bay
When I crossed in the open boat


Hunters will call me a right poor sport
And scoff at the thing I did.
But that day something broke in my heart
And shoot again? God forbid.

 

I have been told this was written by a wood carver of birds.

His name was Lem Ward.

 

 JOIN OUR FREE MAIL LIST?

  CLICK ON THE RED HEART

...................................................................................

.

I would love to hear your comments on the pages we prepare  and recommend, we enjoy doing it for your pleasure, our pleasure is receiving your comments.

Page design By: Texas Bob

Visitors to the site since 7-12-03

free web counter