Deer poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best deer poems ever written. Read all poems about deer.
A Wounded Deer—leaps highest—
I've heard the Hunter tell—
I followed the narrow cliffside trail half way up the mountain
Above the deep river-canyon. There was a little cataract crossed the path,
Over tree roots and rocks, shaking the jeweled fern-fronds, bright bubbling
Deer hunting time is here again
And many hunters take to the woods
After months of planning with family and friends
They gather in common brotherhood
Having smell of the Deer's Musk
The Deer himself become obsessed but
it is truely not an easy task
to identify the source of smell clear-cut.
Where are you O Wild Deer?
I have known you for a while, here.
Both loners, both lost, both forsaken
Like as a huntsman after weary chase
Seeing the game from him escaped away,
Sits down to rest him in some shady place,
With panting hounds beguiled of their prey:
It was a hundred years ago,
When, by the woodland ways,
The traveller saw the wild deer drink,
Or crop the birchen sprays.
Because the warden is my cousin, my
mountain friends hunt in summer, when the deer
cherish each rattler-ridden spring, and I
have waited hours by a pool in fear
The deer's a mighty useful beast
From Petersburg to Tennyson
For while he lives he lopes around
Deer a female deer jumps and runs
stops turns back and looks at with fear
Again runs stops and drinks water from running Rill
with fear turns back as if some one is following !
- Shah Sakirul Islam
I was the deer
At the distant shore,
I was the deer
At my core.
Haunted the hills of Lame Deer are
a group of Indian ghosts show up there they are
He was riding his motorcycle on a country road.
When he accidentally hit a deer.
Both him and the deer got hurt.
The deer was so inconsiderate.
I'd get my rifle down days beforehand and start cleaning it. Dad used to kid me. It doesn't take that long to clean a rifle, he'd say. But I always got so excited. Sometimes I think it's the preparation, the anticipation that's the most exciting part. But I couldn't wait for opening day. I'd set up a practice range behind the house and tack up an old camouflage jacket on the barn. I'd aim right for the top button. I wanted to be at my optimum for when the real hunt began.
It was the best time of year. The turning leaves cast a golden- orange glow, the atmosphere was crisp, there was a smoky smell in the air as folks were starting up their wood stoves. That's when "buck fever" sets in. The old adrenalin gets pumping and you feel super alive. It's my favorite season.
No one who hasn't done it can understand the thrill of the hunt. I believe it has to do with our early hominid origins. In those days they had to hunt in order to live. Of course, there were berries and nuts and grasses which the women gathered. But the real food came from the hunters, who were men. They had to be out there every single day. No time restrictions, no hunting "seasons." Hunting was 24-7. What a life! Sometimes I wish I'd lived then.
It makes you feel like you're getting back to your primitive origins when you're hunting, back to your natural self, away from all the artificial restraints of modern life. You feel like your uncivilized, untamed self is coming out. It's a kind of exhilarating liberation.
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My Father just celebrated his 90th Birthday! And for some reason I was remembering my first deer, my only deer, I ever killed. I went with my father on my first hunting trip to his ranch just north of Hondo, TX. I had been there many times before, riding all over the ranch in a surplus WW2 jeep with my father driving, across creeks swollen with rain! Across cattle guards With the Big White Bull standing guard, in the way of the gate we have to pass through. Sevenyear old Me was scared as sh*t of that bull... but this is a few years later, I must have been about 12. Anyway, He had a blind set up, not far from a feeder, with a good view of the open field and feeder. We climbed up the ladder into the Blind. He got me all situated. Windows all open, Rifle all loaded. And he said "just aim, take the safety off, and shoot if you see anything". And then my father climbed back down the ladder, to go do, I have no idea what. I don't think he thought I would actually see a deer, but with wishful hoping I would.. It was the time of day where the sun isn't quite setting, its just before, just when the light starts to change ever so slightly, you can hardly notice it, but this is when the deer begin to stir. So, I'm waiting...... waiting..... waiting.....I see nothing out of any of the windows, And I get distracted. I then see this yellow jacket nest and a can of insecticide in the blind. And the Yellow jackets are buzzing about, so I'm thinking "might as well kill something", so I start selectively killing individual Yellow Jackets flying about the deer blind. Making all this noise. If a deer was around surely it would stay away hearing all the rattling around I was making in the blind. And then, all of a sudden, I had this feeling SHOOT through ME, Like
a Train, that's fully loaded, and it will not stop, It won't stop until I acknowledge that it's there. It's a feeling that just hit my brain as "DEER". (this is a common occurrence through out my life, I don't know what it is, all I know is it has saved my life on a few occasions, and screamed at me very loud when I'm doing something wrong, and especially told me when people close to me have died, but that's a different story) So I put the can of wasp killer down. Look out one window, nothing. I slowly pull the rifle up, taking the safety off. Look out the other window....nothing, and then I hear a "snap" behind me. Out the back window I look, and I can feel the hair is standing erect on the back of my neck, and all over my arms, even the small hair on my hands begins to stand at attention. I look to the opposite side of where the feeder is and.... it's a DEER! And the deer is Slowly sniffing through the brush, slowly working it's way through the thick mixture or small oak trees, larger cedar trees, and thick brush that I have no Idea what it is! I slowly pull the rifle up. And Looking through the scope I can see its got at least three spikes, so its fair game, NOT a Doe. I switch the safety off, I put my finger on the trigger And my heart starts pounding, and I mean POUNDING! It was Pounding like it was when I lost my virginity, It was the same pounding in my chest when I was driving 130 MPH in my 70 Mach 1 (yes teenagers are stupid!)My heart pounding and pounding. I could literally hear the pounding in my ears, I could feel my chest thumping and thumping, echoing into my arms, traveling down my legs, making me tremble, all the way into my hands, all through out my whole body! They'll tell you it's called "Buck Fever" I have another name for it! "Blood-lust" There is nothing like the feeling when you take a life! ! All my senses were screaming at me! ! My Adrenaline was pumping into my veins stoking The Blood-Lust further, all the while I'm trying my best in my mind, to keep myself calm, trying to keep my sights on the DEER! And then for a few seconds I lost the deer behind a tree. My heart is pounding even harder, and my hands have started shaking as I see it emerge from the other side of the tree and I try my best to aim better, I try so hard to steady the rifle, to see the deer in my sights, to get a good clean shot in his neck..... but adrenaline takes over, And I just pull the trigger! ! !
BAM! ! !
It is autumn with beautiful colorful trees
I spot a deer plain as can be
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