Twas the night before deer season, and all through the camp
Not a creature was stirring, not even old gramps.
The bolt actions were oiled and in their cases with care,
In hopes that deer season would soon be there.
The young hunters where nestled in their beds,
While visions of Big Bucks and Does danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, all angry at dad,
Because of the time spent preparing his big camo bag.
When morning came round, the coffee was hot,
The hunters where wondering “B&C record or not?”
Watching their videos getting all pumped,
Making sure their guts unload by taking a dump.
Putting on their camo, and all the hunting stuff,
Firing up their Scent Smokers and watching them puff.
Load up in the vehicles and off to the woods,
Hoping they remembered everything they should.
Arriving at the hunting grounds feeling like Christmas morning,
Hoping they give their quarry no fair warning.
Some walking to stands and some to their blinds,
Can’t wait to leave all their worries behind.
As day slowly turns from darkness to light,
The bucks start to stir at the hunter's delight.
They grunt and they snort with sounds of beauty,
Trying to attract some sweet doe booty.
Waiting and watching anything that moves,
The hunters are slowly sliding into their groove.
Some will find success, and some will get skunked
To most it does not matter if they get punked.
The smell of autumn and the changing of leaves,
This is why a hunter lives and breathes.
For on the opening day of deer season,
To be in the woods is life’s reason!
Good luck fellas! God Bless and Be Safe!