Little Dickie took his gun,

[trof]

Looking for some harmless fun.
First he shot an old tin can,
Then a box of raisin bran.
Bran and raisins everywhere,
Down his collar, in his hair.

"This is not much fun", he said.
"Maybe I'll make something dead."
Saw a birdie and took aim.
Down the little birdie came.
"That was better", thought the Vice,
"But something bigger would be nice."

"Something man-sized, that's the ticket."
And Harry walked out of the thicket.
Hunting buddy in his sights,
Trigger pull put out his lights.
"Didn't really mean to do it.
That's my story, I'll stick to it."

:-)

[rateyes]

1. Love the poem...

you are quite a talent.

Start one with..

Little dick shot his wad...

[trof]

2. Landed all on Harry's bod.

Ask and ye shall receive.
;-)

[rateyes]

3. TY....nt.