I have been told by a gang of Elk in the woods that I have a talented tongue. Elk calling isn’t something that is God-given gift. Rather it’s something that’s perfected over years and years of practice and patience. (Read with a Morgan Freeman pronunciation).
In the whispering woods of the wild, wild west,
Where the elk roam free and the hunt is the test,
With bow or with rifle, the challenge is clear,
Through tall timber trails, the prize draws near.
The crisp morning air, the thrill of the chase,
Elk bugles echo, setting the pace,
Silent steps in the stillness, a hunter’s delight,
In the wonderful wild woods, from dawn until night.
Tim’s poems
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