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Well there I was mid afternoon.
Deer hunting behind a home made blind
and woods as dead as they could be.

Memorized each tree and hill
two hours at least until prime time.
And roving eyes alight
on a broken and healed small sapling

So I cut it out of the straight crowd. Carried it back to my seat
and considered it.
from all angles.
still bored.

Then I took out my sheath knife and began removing all if it
which didn't scream "healed broken sapling!"
leaving an obtuse L
with 2 bulges at the kink.

So I took off the bark for about ten inches of its forty
good contrast between barked and nude.
....needed a bit something else....

So I cut a helix spiral
for 5 revolutions.
now nude-spiraled and barked, and time
to put this aside, time for deer to move.
...but they didn't that evening
at least not for me.

So I gathered my gear and trudged to truck
in the gathering gloom
with that whittled sapling .

Two days later decided to visit youngest son.
And his wife and my grandson,
For some reason I took that sapling
which I had dubbed"snake whomper"
I took it out of the old truck and showed it to grandson whom
I call Spud (another story)
he's not yet two years.
I told him it was a snake whomper
and gave it to him.
to Whomp
ME with it.
Does that say it all?

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
I don't know! Is this free verse, poetic prose or just prose? But regardless it's an almost true story.
Editing stage: 


Poems with flavor and flair
"Snake Whomper"
got my attention right off the buck!

Nothing like the true brave of the
"test pilots" of tomorrow!

My dad would sit on the deer knolls
waiting for the dog punchers..
a job he had for years..
an excellent hunter and fisherperson!
he would comprise poems which
were epic versions of humor of
the years that he would sing....
He was like a troubador in that regard
and this brings me back the years!

Poetry is so personal at times..
versions of our lives....
be we inner city...or plains
or countries distant from each
we engrain details and flavor
such as your poem has

My younger brother is a sculpter
of antler and bone
and myself too although its been
years since I whittled anything
You got me thinking of what I
can carve maybe!!

Thank You sir for your provocative
and true stories of your adventures
(we are all snakes)

immense laughter from this poet
at the merriment!

I venture away from rhyming stuff once in a while and thought this story which happened last week might be a good chance to do so lol. I'm pleased it brought back some good memories for you. BTW this is the first poem I Ever wrote on a keyboard as opposed to paper......guess I better get the pen out in case of comp problems.......stan

author comment

it says it all pretty well . . . thanks for the read

I don't do a lot of non-rhyming poetry so I'm pleased you enjoyed this stab at it. Thanks for stopping by........stan

author comment

Just had to smile it just shows that in the presence of children we must choose our words with care, lol.
Liked the story a lot, take care both of you and enjoy the gift of life,
Yours Ian and the Children

Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

Put any bat shaped object in a toddler's hand and you best be ready to dodge lol......stan

author comment

Love it
Love judy

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Some folks fail to see the humor in every day types of events lol. Glad you liked this un.....stan

author comment
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