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Once each year,

I compose a rhyme.

But this years poem,

is not on time.

I know not why,

It's so darn late,

the cause of the problem is up for debate!

Perhaps it's the weather,

or maybe my age,

am I losing my touch ?,

Its hard to gauge!

My mind is still young,

however, my body feels old,

but I've not lost my wit,

or so I am told!

At any rate,

this poem will get done,

now I will try,

to describe the fun!

And fun it was for all the men,

who hunt from our shack,

now and again.

There were nine of us,

both young and old.

Some are quiet,

and some are bold.

Some hunt all day,

and some just hang out,

but most of us just walk-about!

Sometimes we get lucky,

and you get off a shot,

but really my friends,

that don't happen a lot!

Don't get me wrong,

we do shoot some deer,

in fact, Kujo and Rudolph,

shot bucks this year.

Many deer were spotted,

but the chances were few.

The hunts a success,

we are happy with two!

The shack has improved,

with a new addition.

JR's Lounge is now a tradition.

It's a place where we gather,

to drink and tell lies.

It's a comfortable room,

in spite of its size.

It has carpet and wood grain,

and a fireplace too,

and a deer-head that sings,

to entertain you!

Many thanks to Groaner,

for helping us out.

This is what Deer Camp is all about.

Twenty-two seasons,

are now complete.

Holding it all together,

has been quite a feat.

I am so darn proud,

of this group of eleven,

which includes my dad,

from his stand in heaven!

And thank you guys,

for all you have done,

and for making our camp,

safe and fun.

By Lars