A poem to which we can all relate.
Nov 15, 2013 19:58:34 GMT -5
CoureurDeBois, timberdoodle, and 1 more like this
Post by acorn20 on Nov 15, 2013 19:58:34 GMT -5
I was cleaning out a couple of drawers in my family room and I ran across a poem that I placed there at least thirty years ago. It reminded me of the times I had at deer camp and for those that haven't experienced it, it's the epitome of deer camp.
It's called "Palace in the Popple" written by George Augustus "Gus" Bixby. Ca. 1905. Here it is:
"It's a smoky, raunchy boars' nest, with an unswept, drafty floor,
and pillow ticking curtains and knife scars on the door.
The smell of a pine-knot fire from a stovepipe that's come loose,
mingles sweetly with the boot grease and the Copenhagen snoose.
There are work-worn 30-30s, with battered, steel-shod stocks,
and drying lines of long johns and of steaming, pungent socks.
There's a table for the Bloody Four and their game of two-card draw,
and there's deep and dreamless sleeping on bunk ticks stuffed with straw.
Jerry and Jake stand by the stove, their gun talk loud and hot,
Bogie has drawn a pair of kings, and is raking in the pot.
Frank's been drafted again as cook and is peeling some spuds for stew,
while Bruce wanders by in baggy drawers, reciting dangerous "Dan McGrew."
Nowhere on earth is fire so warm or coffee so infernal,
nor whiskers so stiff, nor whiskey so rich, nor hope blooming Oh so eternal.
A man can live for a solid week in the same old underbritches,
and walk like a man and spit when he wants and scratch himself where he itches.
I tell you, boys, there's no place else where I'd rather be come fall,
where I eat like a bear and sing like a wolf and feel like I'm bull-pine tall.
In that raunchy cabin out in the bush, in the land of the raven and loon,
with a tracking snow lying new to the ground, at the end of a rutting moon."
"A clean kill or a clean miss. Your will, O Lord,"
Again remember to be Safe & Good Luck!
It's called "Palace in the Popple" written by George Augustus "Gus" Bixby. Ca. 1905. Here it is:
"It's a smoky, raunchy boars' nest, with an unswept, drafty floor,
and pillow ticking curtains and knife scars on the door.
The smell of a pine-knot fire from a stovepipe that's come loose,
mingles sweetly with the boot grease and the Copenhagen snoose.
There are work-worn 30-30s, with battered, steel-shod stocks,
and drying lines of long johns and of steaming, pungent socks.
There's a table for the Bloody Four and their game of two-card draw,
and there's deep and dreamless sleeping on bunk ticks stuffed with straw.
Jerry and Jake stand by the stove, their gun talk loud and hot,
Bogie has drawn a pair of kings, and is raking in the pot.
Frank's been drafted again as cook and is peeling some spuds for stew,
while Bruce wanders by in baggy drawers, reciting dangerous "Dan McGrew."
Nowhere on earth is fire so warm or coffee so infernal,
nor whiskers so stiff, nor whiskey so rich, nor hope blooming Oh so eternal.
A man can live for a solid week in the same old underbritches,
and walk like a man and spit when he wants and scratch himself where he itches.
I tell you, boys, there's no place else where I'd rather be come fall,
where I eat like a bear and sing like a wolf and feel like I'm bull-pine tall.
In that raunchy cabin out in the bush, in the land of the raven and loon,
with a tracking snow lying new to the ground, at the end of a rutting moon."
"A clean kill or a clean miss. Your will, O Lord,"
Again remember to be Safe & Good Luck!
