There are many ways of spending our leisure,

some causing pain, others sheer pleasure.

Iíve never had very much time to spare,

I like to keep busy and breathe country air.

Given the chance, I would go now and then,

to see a man and his dog, putting sheep in a pen.

Iím not keen on football, cricket and such,

of tennis and golf, Iíve never thought much.

What some call sport, I donít class as a game,

when contestants are judged on the creatures they maim.

I wouldnít mind watching if the prey had the gun,

and the hunters were hunted, now that would be fun.

To see those brave men, being chased by the dogs,

hiding down holes, or behind fallen logs.

Iíd be inclined to agree, if I heard someone say,

"Weíre obliged to control those beasts in some way,

itís not really cruel, for the fittest will thrive,

and imagine their joy, at just being alive".

I hope theyíll forgive me for the verse Iíve just done.

They hunt to survive, not simply for fun.

Some human behaviour is hard to excuse

Natureís there to enjoy, not to abuse.

For those crack-shots to show how clever they are,

to use clay pigeons, or targets, is better by far,

than to breed pheasant and partridge, to die by the gun,

as targets for those, who think that killing is fun.
                                         R J Baker

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