On a cold and wet windy spring morning,to get out of bed at 4, a groaning.Knowing not what this day will bring,wet snow or cold rain in early spring.The woods was damp no sounds could be heard,setting there motionless not saying a word,As daybreak appeared, a light frost was due,first turkey we saw, off the roast he flew.Wings were spread to the ground with a thump,fly down breaking limbs just clearing a stump.His long beard hung low, just off the ground,then to hear him gobble, gobble Oh what a sound.Be quiet when you enter the woods, make no sound,walk softly making no noise, turkeys could be around.Listen to the sounds they make durning a struta cluck, a gobble, gobble, but beware of the putt.
Edward L Hart
Edward L Hart
