My poem for Sir

Up goes the pheasant,

Bang he's dead,

A shotgun cartridge through the head,

Out runs the fox,

Out runs the hounds,

Bang bang bang,

And the fox falls to the ground,

Out jumps the deer looking around,

Bang goes the rifle,

And the deer plops to the ground,

Away runs the rabbit,

As fast as the wind,

But what he doesnt know,

Is that there's dogs around the bend,

Up leaps the trout,

Just over my net,

He just got lucky I stated,

As I began to sweat,

Down swoops the pigeon,

Collecting some food,

Sir get better,

This poem is dedicated to you

By Keith Carrig.