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Got Bored Wonded if any of you have ever made like a poam about humting if so put them up i did this on 2 minz ago

hunting's a lifestyle and not for fun ,

using a dog or even a gun ,

there maybe a ban but they've not won becoz the poachers are comin on strong ,

some like a drink some like a bong ,

but cruilty to dogs you got it wrong , we take pride in are hound and keep them safe and warm and sound ,

so before you jump to the gun ive slipped my dog so fuking run !!! LMFAO all fun init haha

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in a field dog at my side

all that game it cannot hide

got dogs leash in my hand

ill slap any anti that comes near my land

so fook the ban all day long

keep yer hunting going strong

come on hunters we must unite

and one day well win our fight

they try all day to spoil our sport

they try to get us in the court

but we keep going strong and strong

legally were doing no wrong

so keep on hunting fook the ban

cos ill keep hunting dog in hand :thumbs:

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Guest underdog

Not exactly a poem lol but about hunting none the less........

 

He looks at me and I look down at him, a word neither spoken nor needed. An understanding which is older than our 9 years together; as instinctive now as it was when man and dog bonded as hunters at the beginning of time. I could feel the tension through the slip lead; his breathing heavy as his anticipation of the chase grows stronger.

 

As the light searches the surroundings all is silent, even his breath is held as we search for that tell tale sign. There, just behind a clump of grass was the unmistakable glint of an eye. With the lamp held fast, and without a single command, the lead is slipped and he gradually works down the beam to his quarry.

 

Nearer and nearer he seeks his prey as it sits tight watching its enemy getting closer and closer. With an explosion of speed it’s off; heading for the forest, heading for sanctuary. All its senses in overdrive listening to the sounds of its foe gaining on him; waiting for the right time to make a turn knowing in a straight line he doesn’t stand a chance. With a quick kick he bends, forcing his killer to change direction, allowing him to gain vital yards even though he is heading in the wrong direction.

 

In an instant the gap’s closed; another bend allows for more precious yards, his heart pounding as his destination grows closer. Every sense focused on escaping his challenger, every step a personal triumph. Adrenalin pumping life through strained muscles, not an ounce of pain as it flows through his agile body. In full flow now it feels like he is floating in air, all four feet off the ground. Involuntary he heads towards the beam, closer and closer, hearing the final words, good lad.

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Got Bored Wonded if any of you have ever made like a poam about humting if so put them up i did this on 2 minz ago

hunting's a lifestyle and not for fun ,

using a dog or even a gun ,

there maybe a ban but they've not won becoz the poachers are comin on strong ,

some like a drink some like a bong ,

but cruilty to dogs you got it wrong , we take pride in are hound and keep them safe and warm and sound ,

so before you jump to the gun ive slipped my dog so fuking run !!! LMFAO all fun init haha

Dont know about a poem but its funny.............. :laugh:

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Not exactly a poem lol but about hunting none the less........

 

He looks at me and I look down at him, a word neither spoken nor needed. An understanding which is older than our 9 years together; as instinctive now as it was when man and dog bonded as hunters at the beginning of time. I could feel the tension through the slip lead; his breathing heavy as his anticipation of the chase grows stronger.

 

As the light searches the surroundings all is silent, even his breath is held as we search for that tell tale sign. There, just behind a clump of grass was the unmistakable glint of an eye. With the lamp held fast, and without a single command, the lead is slipped and he gradually works down the beam to his quarry.

 

Nearer and nearer he seeks his prey as it sits tight watching its enemy getting closer and closer. With an explosion of speed it’s off; heading for the forest, heading for sanctuary. All its senses in overdrive listening to the sounds of its foe gaining on him; waiting for the right time to make a turn knowing in a straight line he doesn’t stand a chance. With a quick kick he bends, forcing his killer to change direction, allowing him to gain vital yards even though he is heading in the wrong direction.

 

In an instant the gap’s closed; another bend allows for more precious yards, his heart pounding as his destination grows closer. Every sense focused on escaping his challenger, every step a personal triumph. Adrenalin pumping life through strained muscles, not an ounce of pain as it flows through his agile body. In full flow now it feels like he is floating in air, all four feet off the ground. Involuntary he heads towards the beam, closer and closer, hearing the final words, good lad.

thats very good :thumbs: :clapping:

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An early walk in the morning dew The proud walk home with a rabbit or two An afternoon in the vegtable patch The radio tuned to the football match A pint of stout a cold game pie A faithful dog wiating to catch your eye A roaring fire , a leather bound book A comfortable chair in the inglenook .

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Guest underdog

An early walk in the morning dew The proud walk home with a rabbit or two An afternoon in the vegtable patch The radio tuned to the football match A pint of stout a cold game pie A faithful dog wiating to catch your eye A roaring fire , a leather bound book A comfortable chair in the inglenook .

 

:thumbs:

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another walk another day

in those earths we hear them bay

dig all day and all night

the wee terrier wont give up the fight

and when we break through at the end of it all

our wee terriers are standing tall

wether we work them above or below

they are always ready to go

seen some pics of them hunting hogs

till i die ill be with my dogs

john

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