The wolf opened its weary eye,
The world of the forest to espy.
Summer’s verdure paints everything green;
Birds and bees everywhere to be seen.
Winter’s cold paints everything white;
The chill enters bone as a fearsome blight.
The blue sky above was not big enough,
We are now fallen to earth to wander the rough.
My dirty paws always find their own path,
I tread lightly hoping to escape Nature’s wrath.
Over roots and rock I find my own way,
Always hungry and thirsty wherever I stray.
Although I whine, whimper, snarl and growl,
I am famously known for my midnight howl.
This howling forms a chorus of twos and threes,
That puts the fear of God into the roots of trees.
Say what you will, I am free and wild,
In a savage wilderness, I am an innocent child.
In Spring, I drink the waters of mountain springs,
Surging thru my veins with a melody that sings.
In Winter, I am stripped naked of everything I know,
The landscape freezes; but I am a creature of the snow.
Nature has provided me with a cloak of warm winter fur,
As I fall nightly into a deep sleep, I can hear myself purr.
If you ask me whether I have something special to say,
My dirty paws will undoubtedly give me away.
one ancient poet said that 'a true sympathy is alike a wild deer—it always set to flee in the thickets while an angry look can be likened to a bandog—even if you banish it from sight, it won’t run away, sticking to both your sides.' And then, 'Once you decide to subjugate the naughty ape, your inflated self, it’s best to start from listening to the lion’s roar of your pure mind!' Though my paws are in the dirt of puddle, as they say, 'wolves depend on their legs for a living.' Well done, John. Cheers, alex
As I read the title, all I could think of was: "Keep your dirty paws off of me!"
And then, I read your treatise on the wolf, the highly misunderstood predator and ancestor of all dogs that we treasure so much. While indigenous Americans knew the value of the wolf and honored him as part of their world, those of us from "civilized" origins have perpetuated the myths that continue to this day treating him wrongly.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
A Collection of Voices from Around the World is more than just a poetry compilation. It is a partnership of poets from around the globe brought together by an internet poetry forum. That forum, poetrypages.com, has been the home of many a fine poet s
Share
Print
Save
Follow
And then, I read your treatise on the wolf, the highly misunderstood predator and ancestor of all dogs that we treasure so much. While indigenous Americans knew the value of the wolf and honored him as part of their world, those of us from "civilized" origins have perpetuated the myths that continue to this day treating him wrongly.
Ron
Love ya!
Jane
Dan
Of earth and nature so well defined.
Fine writing!
Lady Mary Ann