Milroy Farm

Milroy Farm 11-30-08 By William L. Moore For William McCracken Milroy Sitting in my Deer stand Upon my Uncles land Feel the simple breeze As it whispers through the trees Waiting for the Deer Not a single hint of fear Hear the leaves rustle In all of the bustle As they encroach The closer they approach It’s really really strange As they cross the range As you hear the gun go CRACK I may have hit his back He stumbles gently away And falls where he may lay I must wait until he dies Let alone through the cries I am through with the season Since I have accomplished my reason Uncle Bill I thought of you when I wrote this and wanted to make Sure that you got it Love William Lewis Moore Bill