Twas The Night Before Deer Season
All day long I’ve been as fidgety as a kid on Christmas Eve. If you’re a deer hunter too, you know exactly what I’m talking about. And we’re not alone. I just found this article originally posted by Teen Ink. The author is unknown but the article was posted with thanks to Clement Clarke Moore.
‘Twas the night before Deer Hunting, when all through the camp,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a bug on the lamp.
The guns were all cleaned and put in theircases,
Awaiting being loaded and fired at 100 paces.
The hunters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of 10-point bucks danced in their heads.
And Dad in his long johns, and I in my baseball cap,
Had settled our brains for a short winter’s nap
When out on the trail there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
As I hurried to the window to see what was going on there,
I saw an old green pickup truck with nine hunters in the back there.
With a fat little driver all dressed in orange from his head to his toe,
I knew in an instant it must be Uncle Joe.
More rapid than eagles, the hunters they came,
And he slammed on the brakes and called them by name.
“Now Tom! Now John! Now Bill and Mike!
Come Rick! Come Chuck! Come Zachary and Spike!
Get in the camp and jump on the beds,
Wake up all the sleepy heads!”
They spoke many words and went straight to their work,
And when all the hunters were up, they turned with a jerk.
And putting his hand upon his gun,
He dashed to the door in a very quick run.
He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,
And off they went like a shot of a missile.
But I heard him say as he zoomed away in his truck,
“Happy Hunting to all, and I’ll get the biggest buck!”