It was the week of Thanksgiving

The best time of the year

With dreams and anticipation

Of getting my deer

My camo clothes were all washed

With scent killing soap

They were all ready for my new bottle

Of Scent of a Doe #127

Vienna sausages and crackers stuffed in my fanny pack

And a smile on my face and I was thinking

Of ol` Mossy Back

I’d been after that trophy for several years

At 300 pounds and 14 points

He truly was king of the deers

So I picked up ol` Bessie my sweet 308

And I donned on my cover alls

It was 5 am and getting late

So out I went with visions of scrubs in my head

“Yeah this year ol` Mossy back, you’re as good as dead”

So here it is, the last of December

No trophy on the wall

And no deer meat in the kittle

But I have a whole year

To think on it and plan

And like all fellow deer hunters

I’ll do it again.