pulpwood poetry and redneck review

This site is set up to promote the creative muse of pulpwood haulers and rednecks.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Another Thursday Night

Another Thursday night, so what do I do? This week I have posted a lot of works that were written previously. I need to keep some in my pocket in case I don't have time to post, yet I just don't feel very creative. What the heck, how difficult could it be to write a poem?


What a dog was Stump
A throwback Black and Tan
That ol' dog could hunt
On just three legs he ran

He treed coons since he was one
He liked to hunt alone
He ran and ran till he was done
and it was time for home

I gave him his name while still a pup
I thought it sounded odd
"Till a trap on his foot did cut
to make a three legged dog

He never stopped, he never quit
He never did get low
He hunted hard in spite of it
to be the best of show

He finally died giving chase
He ran his last coon far
He saw a headlight in his face
And was run down by a car

I miss that dog every day
I miss his chop and bawl
In doggy heaven I know he'll play
And run on all four paws.

Well....it looks like prose tomorrow!


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