' The Hunt' Poem by Linda Winchell

Here comes dad from across the field
his nose and ears are froze, so off his clothes he peels!
First comes the hat, then his gloves
his coat and overalls, and his boots full of mud!

Disapointed that he, hadn't shot his deer!
he said he followed some tracks for miles!
but nothing ever appeared!

He's been up and out before dawn
has had nothing to eat or drink!
He's so frozen to the bone
he can't hardly think or speak!

I made him some coco
and pancakes with sausage links.
He went to lie down
to maybe catch twenty winks.

Tomorrow is but, another hunting new day
and you know already where those deers gone-a lay.
So with mornings dawn, you'll cross those snow covered lawns
and find your hunts deer reward, right after dawn!