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Dark Night

 Tramping along a winding path,
In the dead of night.
The full moon she follows me,
Shinning ghostly white.
Casting bright shafts, illuminating light.

Rabbit’s glazed eyes,
Feeding through the night.
In an instance hurriedly,
Scarper, bolt from sight.
Hind legs thump out warnings, with all their might.

Jack Frost casting his net upon the ground.
Stealth like encroaching,
Afghan fauna all around.
Underfoot producing a crunching, crisp sound.

A proud stag barks loudly for a mate.
I push on it’s getting late,
Climbing over a five bar gate.
Steadfastly on I go, ignoring the gently falling snow.

The deep dark forest,
Temptress, she beckons me.
Axe in my hand to source a fine tree.
Thieving mongrel,
That’s little ole me.

Breda Ware

1 Comment

  1. Jaroslav Suchý

    I like the way it sort of reminded me of nice winter walks…

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