The Observer - For All the Royal Anglians Past and Present
Standing by a tree, rifle on hip
Leaves red and yellow like a Viking ship
Watching from the shadows, a poachers eye
Silently waiting as phantoms glide by
A noise, just a bird on the forest floor
Preening and dancing like Madame Pompadour.
Footsteps follow a distant call
Crouching like a woodlouse in a steel backed ball
Face in the dirt, a mouthful of leaves
Hiding in the gloom, nobody sees
Silence, nothing but another ghost
With the stealth of a tiger, moves back to his post.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
