Poetry

[The Original Luna]

Some Elephants have Amnesia

They say an elephant never forgets,

But why they say that, I can’t remember,

Which smart Alec thought of that quote?

And cursed me with this quip that people read by rote.

 

“Which plant aids the bowels?”

Asked Hyaena one day

“I’m sure you’ll know, you’re ever so wise, and know a lot about dung.”

It was on the tip of my tongue,

But I said “I’ll come back to you.”

 

Then came a small doe and wildebeest,

“Which grass and shoots and plants, will cure my mum’s ague?”

I shook my head and thought awhile,

And said, “I’ll come back to you.”

 

I walked into a copse, I did,

And paused to talk to Baboon,

I then walked ahead,

CRACK!

I’d walked into the tree ahead, and I felt like a buffoon.

“Why did you do that, old elephant?”

In truth I did reply, “I forgot that it was there.”

 

The hungry ones

Heart-shaped face looked out one dawn,

One eye, two eyes looked out to the night.

Then away he flew the moment torn

Silent wings made not a whisper as though;

One cough would shatter the peace.

 

A rustle here, a rustle there, he noted it all,

And in his stride he gazed briefly at the moon.

He landed on a Branch of Birch, then shuffled,

His feathered feet. He looked about, no sound, no soon,

But the crackle of the field-mouse.

 

With prey in sight, he swooped down,

Like an angel of death, foreboding,

Stretchéd out his long talons and feathers brown,

Snatched the prey in mid-flight, then

 

The shriek of a mother, doomed to die,

Ne’er to see her children again,

Flew upwards on strong wings of Gray.

Fate then declared she’d be made anew,

For the Owlets were hungry.

 

Sound of the Wild

The sound of the wild calls out,

Rings a plaintive cry,

We are hungry,

We must eat.

We will hunt.

 

Paws first, head hung low,

Hear the crackle of the morning snow,

The deer feel our presence like,

A shadow; or fish among a pike.

 

We watch them.

They know we are here.

They stand stock-still, ready to run if need decrees.

We are here.

We are coming

 

A young buck leads the flight,

With the rest soon behind,

We are of the old order,

It’s Kill or Die.

 

They run, we assess their strengths,

And weaknesses. A limp or fracture

gives us a meal.

We saw him, foolish Hart. Thought he could escape, but

Our tribe is smarter than a limp in rut.

 

Run, Run, keep running, don’t stop!

You have them in your sights and claws!

Don’t waste a second for the teeth to drop!

Lax hunters feed no maws!

 

One of our tribe, Hang-claw, is a smart sort.

He cuts across the path of Stag,

He’s separated now’s our chance,

We have at last food in our grasp.

 

Leap, Leap, Bring him down!

We have no time to fool around,

Kill him now, quickly not long,

Before parasites group in throng!

 

Long-tooth delivers the killer-bite, whilst

Others hold him down,

Long minutes pass, the stag gasps at air he cannot reach.

He shudders.

He dies.

We will eat.

We will feed.

We will wait.

 

We are of the old order, it’s eat or be eaten, not many will win when Smilodon’s not beaten.

 

 

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What do you all think?

[antiaircraft]

I've never had much of a thing for poetry, but these kept me reading the whole way through. I love 'em. XD