ramblings and things

923,850 poems read

Poachers' Night

When you carry a 12 bore
There's a rule thats unspoken
It was always carried 
With the barrel broken
The hammers uncocked
Nestled against the firing pin
A pair of No 6 short
Snugly nestled in.
 
We didn't poach by moonlight
We were a very furtive lot 
Being out by moonlight could 
Have meant a backside full of shot
For the Keeper knew his job
And the Keeper was mean 
And being out by moonlight
Made a body more easily seen.
 
So, dressed in dark clothing 
We poached just by stars
Just enough light so
You know where you are
And we could take a hare
A rabbit, pigeon or duck
Sometimes a pheasant
On nights we were in luck
 
We would stand in the floods
As the birds whistle winged down
You got just a split second
To fire at the sound
Always very grateful
For every kill we got
We weren't out for pleasure
Just to fill the cooking pot.
 
Not like sporting gentry
Who shot by the sun
Picking off those birds
Driven towards their gun.
No we didnt poach by moonlight
We were a furtive lot
For being out by moonlight could 
Have meant a backside full of shot


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Poachers Night