Santa's No Deer Camp Christmas Poem

There'll be no Christmas at Deer Camp this year.

Those fools keep shooting at my deer!
And you would not believe the horrid smell,
those hunters put deer urine on Everywhere!

 I'm not coming, no, no indeed

Even though I really know what they need.
They all want a change of luck
so they can get that great big buck

 There'll be no Christmas at Deer Camp this year

I ride by there in deadly fear!
And you would not believe the hell
of interrupting a midnight card game there

 I'm not coming, someone will draw a bead,

Even though I have exactly what they need
They all need a change of luck
to get that great big 10 point buck.

 There'll be no Christmas at Deer Camp this year

Those fools keep shooting at my deer!
Well, Maybe I'll bring just a little luck
so they can finally get that trophy buck.

The Deer Hunters Woe

"Oh, woe is me!”
Ever I sit lonely in my tree.
No deer to sooth me,
Alas, no tempting horns can I see,
deep in the forest running free

“Oh woe is me!”
My fair weapon rusted in the rain
I look, I search to end my pain
While others brag of their fair gain
Alone I struggle with my bane.

“Oh woe is me!”
The giant buck, a beast of fame,
withers my hopes. Alas! my shame.
for knowing that his stride is game
I hunt, I seek to ever claim his name

“Oh woe is me!”
Forsooth to place his horns upon my roof
and ever brag of mighty Thunderhoof!

Shakyspear