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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Cry Of The Wolf In a deep desolate forest in the darkness of the night A fabulous lone wolf is hunting for his life His coat is soft and thick and mixed with dark and light His senses keen and sharp as the blade of a knife He stalks his prey alone now as he lost his pack in fight The stillness of the night air pricks his senses keen He tastes the air and stealthily moves through the night Silently he stalks carefully he goes unseen His prey is small and wily an injured lonesome hare He knows that he can have him if he's wise He approaches it from down wind so the hare is unaware And strikes and makes a kill then howls up to the skies The howl is one of victory of prowess and of gain He sounds his howl out long and clear precise He eats his meal so gracefully sated once again Conscious that the nourishment retains him in his life Now his appetite is repleted and he can afford a break He looks up to the moon to give a howl His existence is precarious friendships he must make He resumes his lonesome vigilance and walks on with a prowl In a lonely empty clearing atop a snow drenched hill He points his nose into the air and howls He's listening for return calls but there's only silence still Nothing but the shuffling and hooting of the owls He journeys onwards through the cold and darkness of the night Never ceasing seeking seeking his own kind He'd never back away should a wolf pack want a fight Self preservation is the only thought in his mind As the dawn draws closer still and daylight starts to creep He offers one last howl up to the moon Still there's no return call and he looks around for sleep His weary body needs some rest real soon He lays upon a bed of snow with protection at his back Gives in to the tiredness and is asleep real soon And in his dreams his howls are answered by a running pack And they all stand and howl up to the moon Jane Shields
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