* The Glock * Poem by Gordon Cross

Gaston Glock a name well known,
Brought forth a gun totally 'home grown'.

A Polymer gun never heard of before,
The purest's grumbled, then they swore...
We've got the 1911, who'd want more?

A gun out of plastic, all boxy & black,
Will the frame split, melt or crack?

Time has passed & Glock's still with us,
In LEO's holsters & with the Mrs.

Many models & calibres there to choose from,
'Glock Perfection' is what they rely on.

Light to hold & carry all day,
'Easy to shoot' is what the Experts all say.

A strange D/A trigger & striker design,
Getting used to it does take time.

So if you're not biased & will take a chance,
Buy a Glock & make the shots dance.

They point quite high & with some instruction,
You'll cut out the 10 ring & cause some Destruction.

But be warned the Glock doesn't like lead,
Swap out the stock barrel or you'll end up dead.

So in final conclusion the Glock's just a gun,
By one, shoot it & have some FUN!