In the Gloaming
The hunter set off just before the gloaming
adjusting the straps of his high powered rifle
it was a long way to where the stag usually fed
a majestic stag sprouting twelve point antlers
Climbing high up the rugged mountain side
he trekked fast covering the many miles
at last he was where the stag usually fed
casting around for signs of his tracks
Finding them he started stalking his prey
up hill and down dale he carefully followed
until at last he could see him way up ahead
taking care to keep down wind he got close
Now about one hundred yards apart, he settled
nestling into the thick bracken patiently waiting
The stag climbed onto his favourite outlook
and stood there poised as the gloaming lit the sky
Truly a wondrous sight he was in full prime
the hunter sighed as he took steady aim
then with a click it was finally time to shoot
the stag hearing the sound took to his heels
The hunted checked his camera, yes he had him
a perfect picture well satisfied he packed up
this one picture had taken days of trailing him
now he was forever captured in magnificent splendour
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment