Photos and captions by Kathy Sullivan
These poems were written by Dick Lee:
Each year, Little Kildare has it's Annual Dinner with awards and poetry session. So here goes:
Now comes our annual meet,
wherein we give each feat,
its just and noble reward.
If you can stomach our poetry,
We'll consider it sufficient gratuity,
For versifying is quite hard.
"Hold Still, Damn You!"
Intrepid soul this Hunter be
With stealth and sneaky guile,
Upon the deer to silently see
Though it takes him several mile.
With rabbits foot and gun and knife
And fourteen rounds and a smile
He tiptoes along to take the life
Of a ten-point buck in style.
And in his mind's eye sees the buck
The largest of them all
On buckpole hang if Lady Luck
Will walk with him this fall.
So, stealthily he hunts the buck,
As carefully he treads the muck,
'Till now he sees the long-sought buck
Raises sight and prays for luck,
with fourteen rounds along
with fourteen rounds along.
The gun goes off; the deer takes flight,
As twice he shoots again.
About it turns just out of sight;
Now 'leven rounds remain,
Now 'leven rounds remain.
Here carefully he marks the spot
Where last the deer had lain,
And tracks his flight from that same spot
To flush him once again.
Twice he curses and twice flies shots
To find with mental pain
The old pathetic hunter's lot
An empty chamber 'gain.
And now nine rounds remain,
And now nine rounds remain.
He fills the magazine
And finds a tuft of hair,
some blood on emerald green,
a flag in distant air;
Like thunder it rumbles
Once more and again,
As now the buck stumbles
Into a small glen.
Again the gun rumbles
To touch his hind end
and flips him, who tumbles
To sit end in fen.
Now raising his sight
Heart bursting, head throbbing
Adrenals squeezed tight,
His wit lust now robbing
The Hunter 'gain fires
and creases the buck,
As fate now conspires
To rid him of luck.
An empty chamber 'gain,
As four rounds now remain,
As four rounds now remain.
"I'd rather eat crow then fail to kill
This stubborn old foe
who just won't hold still".
Load up, he does, the rounds
he has left
No Hunter there was
Whose cool so bereft.
Bang!
"Hold still..........Bang!
Damn................Bang!
You"..................Bang!
CLICK!
Eyeball to eyeball
Glared hunter to hunted
Eyeball to eyeball
back the buck started
More bullets were all
He now ever wanted
A full bandolier
A long bayonet
He'd harpoon the deer
and get his buck yet.
But ill -equipt
And under-armed
Frustration gripped
And speechless charmed
Eyeball to eyeball
Glared hunter to hunted
Eyeball to eyeball
the buck only snorted.
Across the great marsh
came thrashing another
Gasping twice, Marc,
(pronounced Marse..i.e. Marcel)
'Twas Sim's hunting brother.
For nearly a mile
he's plunged in a hurry
Stumbling the while
Through bog and cranberry
Disheveled and torn
Wild gleam in his eye
No wind and worn
"A buck?" his wheezed cry.
Replied the Hunter,
Frustration crazed,
"MY BUCK" with hauteur,
His arm upraised;
To which now Marc
With careful sight
To coup-de-gras
This noble Buck's plight.
Fired once to send
A missle through
The buck's hind end
Both hams to chew.
By this display
So mortified
The buck down lay
and
naturally
died!
This account, written in fun and license.
However, the Committee feels there is
more to it than rumor but the only
amicus curiae or friend of the court,
was the buck who unfortunately has
been silenced.
WE WILL NEVER KNOW THE TRUTH
However, we feel there is enough
evidence here to award the
VIVA PANCHO AWARD to FRANK COOK
for probably the most shots ever fired at
a single deer!
For anybody that hasen't been to Kildare during the winter, it can be a lot of fun (if Don isn't anywhere on the park). A bit more planning needs to take place, but if all the stars align, it's even more peaceful during the hibernating season.Annual Dinner
Fall Picnic
