Wednesday, 20 December 2006

Bushcraft Christmas

Santa is a bushcrafter too,
How else does he know what to get me?
A non special knife just wont do,
Will santa this year forget me?

I cant blame the wife she's suffered all her life,
With my bushcraft fascination,
So if santa dont come - one things to be done,
Father Christmas Assasination!

I'll whittle the tree in to a bow and arrows you see,
And wait for the old fellow that night.
And if he comes the chimney or Stair,
I'll skewer there him - just right!

There in the dark in my swanni and hat,
I feel like a kinda of wolly.
As I cry out in pain again and again,
Cos' I pricked myself on the Holly.

Alone in the dark I hear a fox bark,
Then an owl calls softy outside,
Dropping my bow I hurry and go,
Back up to my big bed and hide!!

When morning doth come I welcome the sun,
But remember how my legs turned to jelly,
This bushcrafting game if its all the same,
I'll just watch on the telly.

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