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Outdoor Poetry

Seth

Seth

Active Member
I've been an avid poet, never been published or anything but its always been a hobby. Anywho I've started writing hunting and outdoor themed poems and just finished this one. Thought I'd share it with you guys. Sometimes it's not about the harvest or even the hunt and that is what this one is about. Enjoy.

"A New Day's Birth"

I hit my alarm 3 times but it won't stop
With blurry eyes I see its not even 5 o'clock
I sit up on the edge of my bed
Rub my eyes and scratch my head
I go turn on the shower and the coffee pot
And I wait and wait for both to get hot
No hot water? What in the hell?
But I gotta do it to get rid of my smell
I scrub my body with scent killing soap
To better my chances, at least I hope
I dry off quick and throw on some drawers
The coffee steams as it slowly pours
I grumble as I put back the blistering pot,
"At least something in this house is hot"
I go put on my camouflage suit
And try to find my one missing boot
Just before I head out the door for the day
I give my clothes and equipment one last spray
It's still dark as I walk into the woods
As I think to myself, "Life is good."
Sneaky as a cat I get into my stand
And get settled in with bow in hand
My thoughts of the big buck I want to shoot
Are interrupted by a ghostly owl hoot
Slowly the night gives way to morn
And I get to watch a new day being born
Over the horizon stretches the first sun ray
And the timber wakes up to greet the new day
I hear birds and squirrels begin to bustle
With chirps and chatters and leaves that rustle
Sunshine floods the forest like water in a pool
Every bit of frost or dew shines like a jewel
Mother Nature has yet to fail to produce
Such a beautiful day full of hope and youth
I'm glad now I got up to get in my stand
To watch the glorious birth of this day at hand
By: Seth Bartlett

More to come!
 
Bravo!
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I too write a little poetry, so I'll finish your poem where you left off.

As I sit quiet and begin to wait,
I dream of my next trophies fate.
I hear a crunch behind my tree, and slowly turn so I can see.
A healthly doe walks down the trail, with my next head mount on her tail.
Her tail is up,
he sniffs the air,
heart beats so hard my shirt might tear.
He curls his lips and gives a grunt,
this is the reason we all hunt.
I draw my bow when he looks back, and let one fly and hear the THWACK!
His back legs kick, he bolts away,
then stops and looks and starts to sway.
He piles up, I say a prayer, as I breath in the morning air.

GOOD LUCK THIS WEEKEND FELLAS!
 
Thanks, I played for Cornell College for four years and at the end of my sr. year (last year) I left school early in the spring to go play for a semi-pro team in Rome, Italy called the Lazio Marines that are a part of N.F.L. Italy. Quite an experience. The coach wants me back but I'm still thinking about it since I'd be missing turkey season.
 
Cool poem(s)!! The rest of the world has no idea what they are missing on a frosty fall morning....
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