Tie Down
With Winter, now the poacher's chain releases
while the hunters vane, their aptitude increases,
as still the mind sets edging, fate's receipt
the wait on wait, to kill mundane, bears thesis!
No thought of vestige pride, the eye beseeches
the game is theirs, the Bible's cry
the Earth is Man's therein the tie,
ties down the conscience, gives it tithe!
Tied down by glory, hunt or die
the boisterous story, ego's rely
Tied down, the creature spared to buy
another hunter's license ~ my!
The State does benefit from the pie,
the same as taxing whiskey, rye
tied down, the Indian's wrestling wit
keeps watching, man to man ~ remit!
Once open prairie, now in script
tied down by rules, bit by bit!
this fetish bond, tied down to death
the hunter's choice, the home's rejoice!
Claim not the ground, you surly voice
tie down your weapon, your exploit
and let it wander o'er your soul
in season's squander of remorse!
No guilt, no envoy, no gun's force
NO HUNTING ~ Read my sign . . . ENDORSE!
Copyright ©
Paula Larson
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