The Shot Not Taken

Two Woods converged in a scary grove,
And I thought that I would photo both
In a single frame, long I strove
To capture both in a single clove
To where they fooled in branches;
They would not obey, not playing fair
And having perhaps another aim
Or maybe they just didn't care
Were searching for some time to maim,
And both that evening equally strayed
In bushes their steps had squashed quite flat.
Oh, I thought I'd shoot them another time!
Yet knowing how Sean and Earl go on
I doubted if I would accomplish that.
I shall be boring you with this tale,
Talking across the back fence:
Two Woods converged in a scary grove, and I -
I missed the shot and now I cry,
And resorted to poetic flatulence.