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The Game

When morning breaks on heathers bed
And gasping dogs the grouse have fled
The hunter's guns have played their beat
And warm and silent death is laid" at masters feet"

When autumns leaf's alight on pools
We leave the fishing to the fools
That strive to halt the salmon's spawn
Then wonder why in years to come "the King has gone"

In dark and silent forest night
 A deer has crossed a keepers sight
The trigger finger gently pressed
Another life has left us now "unblessed"

When flocks of hungry greylag Geese
In search of winter fields to fleece
Approach the sands of Britain's shores
Are met by 12 and 20 bores now "rest in peace"
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Submitted on April 15, 2021

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    "The Game" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 12 May 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/97726/the-game>.

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