The Asp

The wild zephyrs blowing
Into directions unknown
Test the trees that bend and survive
The morning’s sun rays bless
The buds of a rose
In the fields of clover
As she grows off the road
Near the shade.
Paths leading
To the forest darkness
Where shadows reign
As one whistles, looking behind
Autumn leaves grace the ground
Nature’s alarm
Where critters abound.
~*~

Listen to the winds,
Gushing past leafless trees
Music to my ears, as I crunch
My way
Through covered grounds
Trying to blend,
Where I not belong.
Beneath the kaleidoscope
Of treasured hues
That surrounds my passion
For Nature
As I search for peace.
~*~

Slithering is the silent hunter
Seeking its prey
A field mouse scatters,
Rouses no more
Now resting peacefully
In the clutches of an asp
Once it fed upon
The seeds and berries
Of the fields
The asp preyed upon it,
The hawk soaring high
Above in the clear blue sky
Will descend upon his prey
An asp out of place.
~~*~~



By:
William Bonilla
(D’Artagnan)
11/09/07