Open Poetry #37 |
Corvus. |
Goldenrose Member Elite
since 2003-05-30
Posts 3665 |
Swaying atop, breeze blowing, green fields stretch out, seeing him running, where is he going? He pants, tongue lolling, he turns about. So often we have helped each other, now i am helpless to his plight, the baying of hounds gather, sending him harder to flight. Shouts, horns, hooves thundering, excited squeals, the clamour. Torn flesh, blood gushing, scarlet creatures, hounds devour. Readying my wings, unfurling feathers, perched high, taking whatever life brings, his remains i will take, gliding like a sigh. Desire for nothing except desirelessness,hope for nothing except to rise above all hopes, want nothing and you will have everything.avatar Meher Baba. |
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© Copyright 2006 P.D - All Rights Reserved | |||
A Romantic Heart Member Ascendant
since 1999-09-03
Posts 5496Forever In Your Heart |
Fox hunting is cruel, it should be out-lawed....I hate it! if that is one thing I hate about the British, it is the fox hunts! Poor fluffy xxxx J. M. Barrie, the playwright, may have said it best when he wrote, “God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” |
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