09/24/2024
Found a new favorite poem but I cannot find who wrote it.
“Here's to all hunters and our precious game.
Here's to our sport may it always remain.
And to our fine lives lived on the land.
May aces and eights be our final hand.
With our souls above when all is forgiven.
Through the gates we pass cause we're no longer livin'.
May it be clear with our word when to St. Peter we say.
I have but one request on my judgement day.
You see it's beautiful up here, don't get me wrong.
But I was never much for soft clouds and sweet songs.
You see there's nothing in Heaven to keep testing my mettle;
so send me to hell so I can hunt the Devil!”
Author unknown
