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In the darkness just before dawn, we're ready for the hunt
The boat is in the water, filled with everything we'd want.
There's a norther headed southward, and the ducks are down, they say.
There's little time to waste, because the blind is two miles away.
The Labrador is in the boat, three dozen decoys sacked.
We've extra duck calls stored away, hot thermos bottles packed.
The lunch box-overfilled again, with baloney, cheese, and crackers.
A feller get plumb hungry, when he's out there huntin quackers.
We've got pump guns in their cases, got the 20 horse on the boat.
Heavy socks and gloves and waders, and a Columbia huntin' coat.
Shells ... we've got aplenty, two's and fours-steel shot.
So crank that dad-blamed motor, or is there something we forgot?
You can hear the ducks aflyin'..daylights comin' fast.
Yeah, we brought some of dang near everything, but not one ounce of gas!


Shoot them sprigs on their first pass!

NEED ELE. MOTOR W/HOT BATTERY. [img]images/smiles/icon_wink.gif[/img] [img]images/smiles/icon_wink.gif[/img] [img]images/smiles/icon_wink.gif[/img]

I wrote this after two duck-hunting buddies of mine crossed over Jordan back in '95.

Wake up at dark-thirty,
warm up the truck;
my wintertime passion
is to go hunt a duck.
Strap on the waders,
load up the dekes;
wind so cold
it's freezing my cheeks.
Break through the ice,
set out the spread;
there must be something
loose in my head.
A whistling of wings,
the sound of their chatter;
when they cup in
we'll send them the scatter.
Turn 'em this way,
with a few calls;
cut 'em again,
we're havin' a ball!
I've had a great hunt,
braving the cold;
me and my buddies
been in the duck hole.
Now I'm in heaven,
I can hear angels sing;
or maybe it's the whistling,
for now I have wings.

Tal Tharp--Jay Duke
December 26, 1995

Wingman

I'm back!!!!! loved the poem, did you right it your self????
school's great and just ready to hit the blind with ya and shoot some greenheads!

BigBlackMallards

Hey Wingman, great one!!!! Really seems like the way to go. Sounds really peaceful.

This isn't quite a poem, but it is a revised little "joke" one of my buddies sent out before last duck season. It was written last year but I just changed the dates. Here it is:

Fellow country men lend me your ears. The ides of December are upon us. It is
time that we take arms against our foe. For ten months we have been held at
bay, withheld from taking action. Our time is now. We must strike with great
force taking our enemy by surprise. On the first day of December
in the second year of the new century we will make our stand. Side by side we
will not fail. We will prevail through courage risking all we have. Some of us
may not make it through this test of manhood and life. For those who fall for
the cause we will remember as patrons and will honor their memory always. It
is now you must decide. Only you can make this decision. It must be from the
heart. Nothing less than 100% dedication will do. Search your feelings and
decide: TO DUCK OR NOT TO DUCK

TO DUCK!!!

Swampland, it aint rigth to mix one of the best shotguns (the remington 870) with a banner of Ole Miss, It just ain't right!!!! [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img] [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img] [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img]