Nature Poems
THE CHOSEN ONE
Silently stalking for prey,
The agile beast roams the open land.
Moving secretly through the overgrown grass
The only sound to be heard
Is the call of a lonely eagle.
Bordering on the brink of desperation
The beast picks up it's speed
Till, at last, it reaches the
Abundant waterhole.
From afar
Hundreds of unsuspecting heads
Graze peacefully.
Unable to perceive the greed
Oozing from the tongue of the
Insatiable beast.
Their destiny lay upon it's grand
Patterned physique.
The beast spies it's victim.
The Chosen One!
Excitement tears through it's body
As it nears closer and closer....
The Chosen One takes a deep breath
And stops.
Frigidy Inert.
Frozen.
Frozen in his own fear.
His destiny is chosen.
From it's hiding place
The patterned beast
Get's ready for the Chase.
Insanity hits like a tidal wave
Throughout the herd.
The chase is on.
Seperating the Chosen One
From the herd
The beast's powerful physique
Leaps high in the air
To land lightly on top of the prey.
Devouring till sanguine
The tiger
Abandons the rotting relics
For the next voracious beast.
Stretched languidly
Along an outstretched branch
The beast is content.
The only sound to be heard
Is the call of a lonely eagle
As yet another day,
And the Chosen One,
Departs Forever.
By Anna Sanford '96 (Copyrighted)
THE WILD HORSES
Let the dark mountain shake to the thunder
Where the wild horses trample the fern,
Let the deep valves re-echo and wonder,
When, like an eddy, they circle and turn!
Watch the lithe motion
Run free as an ocean,
Never has man laid a hand on a head;
Never a halter
Has bid a step falter,
Never a crest bent down to be led!
Mark, in their starting, the pride of their bearing.
Swift wheel the leaders, each in his place;
Snorting, they stare at us, timid and daring,
Ere with a whirl they are off at a race.
O, the wild sally,
As, down through the valley,
Turn they again to the mountains they know;
Chased and the chaser
Outstretched like a racer,
Where, as the wind, unconquered they go!...
What though the pommel scarce keep you from reeling;
What though the breath be almost a cry;
What though all trurn in a dream that is stealing
Sense from intention and light from the eye -
Follow them, Follow,
By height and by hollow;
Follow them, Follow, whatever the course!
Soon will the wonder,
Die out with the thunder,
Soon will the mountain forget the wild horse.
- DAME MARY GILMORE -
CARING FOR ANIMALS
I ask sometimes why these small animal's
With bitter eyes, why we should care for them.
I question the sky, the serene blue water,
But it cannot say. It gives no answer.
And no answer releases in my head,
A procession of grey shades patched and whimpering.
Dogs with clipped ears, wheezing cart horses,
A fly without shadow and without thought.
Is it with these menaces to our vision,
With this procession led by a man carrying wood.
We must be concerned? The holy land, the rearing
Green island should be kindlier than this.
Yet the animals, our ghosts, need tending to,
Take in the whipped cat and the blinded owl;
Take up the man-trapped squirrel upon your shoulder.
Attend to the unnecessary beasts.
From growing mercy and a moderate love
Great love for the human animal occurs.
And your love grows. You great love grows and grows.
- JON SILKIN -
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