It Ain’t Easy Being a Deer

It ain’t easy being deer,
I know it may sound queer,
But everyone wants a piece of me

I’m tall and I’m lean,
Not the least bit mean,
I’m just diggin’ nature, can’t you see?

They call me a doe,
Just a regular Joe,
Though my name’s Gwendolyn Mae

Gwendolyn Mae, wondering if you’re gonna finish that juicy apple.

I don’t care for red flesh
Preferring a salad that’s fresh
Random leaves, some apples, and hay

If your garden is growing
Of that I’ll be knowing
I’ll eat your flowers, lettuce, and corn

I guess all this eatin’
Is why we are breedin’
Sex and food is why we are born

What’s that over there?
I just had a scare
Standing here at the edge of your yard

Every little sound
Causes concern so profound
That relaxing is often quite hard

But standing in a road
Trucks whizzing by, I’m quite bold
We’re often run over by cars

We run at dusk and at dawn
On the road, on your lawn
Occasionally through glass windows of bars

A bobcat comes ‘round
Creepin’ slow, ‘cross the ground
Like he wants to chew on my head

That pesky bobcat on the prowl.

When I’m well-fed and fat
Can you imagine that?
Everyone wants a piece of me, dead

So far I’ve out run him
‘Cause he ain’t so cunning
His dinner I’ll not make my fate

And I’m so often chased,
By big bucks in their haste,
Looking to woo me and mate

That pesky buck sniffin’ around, probably looking for Gwendolyn Mae.

Some guys hangin’ near,
Try to scratch my ear
With big chunks of lead from their guns

I’m usually real calm
But their lead ain’t no balm
To me they’re just hooligans

Some call them “hunters,”
But I think they’re punters
Thinking my head would look cool on their wall

That’s why I say
My least favorite day
Is the hunting season you people call Fall

I think I’ll lie down
Upon the deep-forest ground
This poem is trouble to write

If you see me today,
Just let me lay
Keep me out of your recipes, all right?