The Prey

Crawling along the ground upon all fours his open wounds matching his tunic red, alone with no rescue out on the moors the only shelter low stone wall ahead. Then one by one their silhouettes appeared, silently along the mossy lime, they'd overtaken him as he had feared- the skulk of foxes sat, biding their time.......

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Caycay Jennings

Date: 7/8/2016 11:03:00 PM

Ewwwwww. Well, Ew and Chilling, could mean so many things, but none of them uplifting. Very creative, deep thinking ... CayCay

Viv Wigley
Date: 7/10/2016 12:57:00 AM

I'm not a fan of Fox hunting, so I thought I'd turn the tables, hence the hunter's red tunic. Viv x

James Inman

Date: 7/8/2016 9:16:00 AM

Your words convey a deep metaphorical meaning Viv. This could easily be lengthened into a very interesting longer write.

Viv Wigley
Date: 7/8/2016 2:37:00 PM

Possibly so, James, but I shall leave it in it's brevity. Our new potential Prime minister, Theresa May, is on about repealing the Fox hunting ban- I'm not a fan of anyone who gets enjoyment from terrifying and killing animals for sport, hence the reversal in my poem. Regards, Viv

Daniel Turner

Date: 7/7/2016 7:03:00 AM

I'm not sure what it was that was dying but I'm guessing foxes would be a little quicker than vultures. looking at the bright side. Really enjoyed the read today, Viv. I like reading good poetry!

Viv Wigley
Date: 7/7/2016 10:42:00 AM

I'm not a fan of Fox hunting, Daniel, so I thought I'd turn the tables. Our local member of Parliament is against trophy hunting but all for Fox hunting, which I find annoying. Regards, Viv