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
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