CXXVI - The Game Hunter

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The Game Hunter

Henry had had a yearning,
Ever since he was very small,
To be a be a big game hunter,
With trophies on his wall.

One day, luck smiled on him,
With some unexpected loot,
And Henry got the chance
To fulfil his need to shoot.

More excited by the second,
Drinking whisky by the fifth;
He donned a nicely ironed safari suit
And a helmet made of pith.

He assembled native bearers
To carry all his things
And headed to the jungles
To see what fortune brings.

He hunted through the forests,
Over hill and dale and all;
Looking for some big game,
To put upon his wall.

After weeks of fruitless trekking,
His patience sorely tested,
He chance upon a rocky pool
And a lady there, bare breasted.

She was washing by the water,
And showed no desire to run;
She finished her ablutions
And then dried off in the sun.

Henry coughed and politely asked
Could she point to local game?
The lack of suitable trophies
Was a blot on Henry’s name.

She winked at Henry, wickedly
And reclined, naked on a shawl.
“I’m game if you are, big boy!”
Now her head’s on Henry’s wall.

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© J Cosmo Newbery
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