The Buck Stops Here...Literally!

 THE BUCK STOPS HERE

This might be sad to hear

But I’m not fond of deer.

They may strut with grace

And have a cute, cuddly face

But they don’t know their place

When they debase

My garden space.

It’s a disgrace.

They devour every flower

And for good measure

They smile with pleasure

Noshing on my blooming treasure.

I yell, I plead, I shoo them away

But to my dismay

They won’t stray from my garden buffet.

It’s their favorite hang-out café.

I'm not fooled by their bambi looks

Those doey eyes out of story books.

They steal my plants in broad daylight

Or sneak around in the dead of night.

Spring, summer and fall

They have a culinary ball.

Even during snowy winter

They eat my evergreens down to a splinter.

Now listen up, you hungry beasts

I’m tired of providing your daily feasts.

You just finished off my beautiful mums

And you’re still coming back for tasty crumbs.

I’ve had it up to here, you pesky deer

Enough is enough, so you’d better stay clear

Of my precious garden plot.

Trot back to your own forest lot.

Oh I know, we’ve invaded your territory

But boo hoo on that old sob story.

I don’t shoot at you or sling arrows your way

I don’t even eat your meat, I dare say.

So do me a favor if you please

Return to the woods with big oak trees,

Ticks and fleas and lyme disease

And leave my flowers to the birds and bees.

Now if you abide by this humble truce,

You will not replace our Christmas goose.

But if you don’t stop your nibbling ways

Then it’s roasted venison for the holidays!

Sphere: Related Content