The sun is dropping down
That orange ball has begun to glow
It won't be very long now
It will be time for the show
The hounds are in the truck
Just waiting to use their noses
As soon as we set them free
There will be all kinds of noises
Now the hounds are on the hunt
Covering all of the woods lands
They have noses thousands more powerfull
Than that of any fellow man
One just struck a track
And now the race has begun
The hounds bark in harmony
Like a song that's never been sung
Now their voices start their changing
As they start locking on the tree
They have rounded up the raccoon
Now it's our turn to go and see
The coon is surely up the tree
We can see its eyes shine bright
As we are standing under the tree
Shining and looking at it with our light
Now it's time to leash the dogs
And load them back in the truck
Coon hunting is quite a thrill
Some people never have this kind of luck
written 10/21/2012 by Norman Hale Jr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem