Best Deer Poems
four deer
amble across my path
on a city street. . .
an unnatural
natural sighting
Written 2/25/16 for the Fragment Of Life Contest of Broken Wings
*Note: This happened to me just this week. There is something so fascinating to me about such a simple thing. My kids always got so excited to see this kind of thing too.
For better or for worse they'd pledged
upon their wedding day,
but all the so called better bits
had somehow gone astray.
Poor Blue and Joan had lost the zing
that matrimony brings,
so both sought out a counsellor
and hoped he'd patch up things.
"I sense you do not spend much time,"
the counsellor advised,
"on doing the together things
you both once highly prized.
"The best advice that I can give
is, spend less time apart.
Go find a common interest
and that will be a start."
While driving home Joan said to Blue,
"I know what we can do.
Next week when you go hunting dear
I'll come along with you."
"But Joan you've never seen a deer
or ever used a gun,
but still if that is what you want
I guess it could be fun."
The next weekend they set on out
and Blue advised his Joan
to watch for hunters who may claim
a deer that's not their own.
With Joan concealed and out of sight
Blue showed a lot of nous
and circled 'round to chase a deer
towards his waiting spouse.
Then suddenly he heard a ... BANG!
That made his poor ears ring
and as he worked towards his wife
he heard Joan arguing.
Blue saw as he peered through the trees
his Joan and some poor dude,
both locked into a verbal war;
a ding dong all out feud.
The bloke then cried "Okay! Okay!
You keep the flamin' beast,
but may I have the saddle though?
Please grant me that at least?"
His family had lived here all their lives untold and he had too.
His father had died when he was young and he vaguely remembered him.
Mom tried to cross the busy street which she had been warned.
She had instantly been killed as her family watched with horror and fascination.
No funeral just sadness as the machines whizzed by but the last of his kind remembers.
As a youth, he had run and played in these fields but steered away from the machines
as he had been warned.
The machines are fast and you must always watch for them and be clear.
The woods were loved as he chased the young females until they let him catch.
He had two of his own children but they had died at very young age.
And soon after, the big trucks came with the men that would be vilified.
They uprooted one hundred year old oak and built twenty homes.
Across the road where the field was, forty more were taken from his youth.
The last of his family had all been married out or were dead until he was alone.
And as he walked and looked, he was frightened and filled with grief.
He saw his mother standing gracefully at the top of the house filled field.
His brother and sister played until dusk when his mother would call and recall.
He ached where he ran and still he searched.
As the tear rolled away with those distant memories and the pain.
Slowed by the ache he laid his final time with grief.
And he knew he was the last and his youth died with him.
The last deer
I hesitate to get my cool clean drink this morning.
Something is different. The cold air is the same.
The water is still, I do not sense danger.
There is a lack of sameness however.
I look at my brother and shake my head as he
Starts for the water. He hesitates, his ears come up.
He is listening. I realize for the first time how many points he has.
I had another brother with points like that. Proud, until he was not.
He paws at the ground and gives a rough cough.
I give him a sharp glance. He looks down, shyly.
Not as proud, and I feel ashamed of myself.
He is my little brother. Do I dare let him go first?
The last time I did that, I lost a brother.
With a cough, I let him know I will go first.
Something is wrong; not danger, but something.
Man? I am not sure. If man, a young one.
I step out and take a cool drink. Put my head up.
Sh! Did you hear that?
A loud noise crashes through the meadow.
A searing pain goes through me.
The last thing I see before my eyes close
Is my brother's white tail as he hops over the fence
Back toward the safety of the trees. He does not look back.
I smile, knowing I saved at least one of my brothers.
The Musk deer searches the forest,
For the fragrance so dear,
She does not know, the musk lies in her navel,
Inviting us to look for virtues within ourselves.
With the eyes like that of deer,
Body slim as leaping gazelle,
The skin so colorful, soft, and glowing,
The beauty we love to adore,
The deer bestows the look so dear.
On a foggy night, when I go for a sleep walk,
I meet deer and fawn coming down to creek,
They wonder about my sleepless troubled mind,
I adore their beauty on hazy moonlit nights.
Advice from a deer,
“Be a good listener”,
For wisdom lies hidden in words we ignore,
In silence, learn secrets the world longs to share.
"Know when to lay low,"
In stillness, find solace, devoid of all fear.
When storms rage above, and chaos unfolds,
Retreat to the shadows where peace gently molds.
"Tread lightly on earth,",
For our footprints leave marks that forever appear.
With reverence and grace, step with utmost care,
Preserve every meadow, each forest is so rare.
"Take time to browse,"
In the bounty of life, find joy from within.
Explore the vast fields, where dreams come alive,
Feast upon moments, let your spirit revive.
"Look both ways before you cross the road,"
In life's bustling highway, where dangers may roam,
Take heed of the perils and find your way home,
Let vigilance guide us through winding hurdles unseen.
"Don't pass the buck!"
Accept accountability, embrace what is right,
For the buck stops with us, in actions we take,
With compassion and courage, our choices shall be made.
lavender tendrils
ripples on depthless water
deer snaps his head up
5/24/2018
In antler duel
to the death do them apart
echo in mountains
the kingdom of the red deer
roaring in the autumn night
11.11.2022
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
~ Poem of the Day 12.11.2022 ~
Hope
sun at its zenith
prize winning nascent blush rose
white-tailed deer feasting
8/19/2018
There is no right way...
there are only wrong
ways – there is no
Luke-warm love, for
love is not a portion
nor temperature...not
a two-step – but a toward
You Step. And we know love
when we see it...let it
happen~yes, free it!
Too often we flee it;
failures leave a lasting
mark – making us Leary
of future spark – once a
flame ignited, and then
smothered out, can leave
a nasty ash; better to make
the dash~yes, run. Before
the heart is barbecued~
overdone....
But no one has ever won
if not a wager on the board
of life – just ask my very
wise wife – who made a purse
out of a sow's ear...her headlight
on my deer.
Hush o'er azure stone ridge,
hypnotic wax moon dash,
wispy crescent rustle from,
a piebald furry deer,
nocturnal stealth enshrouded,
silver tint antler scoops,
limp orange leaf detritus,
canopy of maroon ink,
black mist dewdrops spill,
corral Northern Bobwhite quest,
shuddersome elk teeters on,
bituminous coal summit,
cast a pearl oyster glance,
into an uncanny precipice,
enigmatic phenocryst ravines,
spellbound immersive trickle,
species of the dome shape,
muted in clandestine trot,
oe’r mushroom quandary in crossing,
to slink away the eerie stillness
Twas the night before deer season
and all through the town
all the hunters were campin';
there was no one around.
The guys weren't all snuggled
and warm in their beds.
Instead they're in sleeping bags
dreaming of mounted buck heads.
They hope to get out early
and see a huge buck!
To hear something besides a squirrel,
I'll wish them good luck!
The schools are all out for
the whole of the season.
The mothers will go crazy
for that very reason.
It causes time to be mixed up
and all in a haze.
The game warden's wife
hasn't seen him for days.
So get all your gear out,
and decked out in camo.
Shine up the ole rifle,
and fill it with ammo.
Before I finish up,
I'll give you one tip.
Don't mess with that warden,
don't give him no lip!
It's almost time to head out,
and listen hard for a grunt.
Happy deer season to all;
have a safe and fun hunt!
In bed looking out my window... (sighs)
up at the moon with leaden eyes
approaching bleak scarlet skies
dawns spell prompt to arise.
Fawn forages prize
roses, surprise
at moms cries,
it shies,
flies.
11/2/2019
Poetry Contest: Rhyming Nonet
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
The hunter laughed, his rifle bright,
his boots like thunder in the night--
but deep within the twisted trees,
something stirred among the leaves.
Not a whisper, not a sound,
just breath like smoke along the ground.
A shadow moved--too fast, too wrong,
its eyes like embers burning strong.
"You took her life, now you will see--"
"the price of blood belongs to me."
The hunter turned, his hands went slack,
as antlers rose--tall, sharp, black.
Not bone, not wood, but something old,
a hunger carved in silent gold.
The forest wept, the branches swayed,
as Bambi stalked his helpless prey--
no longer soft, no longer mild,
but wrath reborn in Nature’s child.
A scream, a shot--too late, too late--
the hunter met his mother’s fate.
And when the dawn bled through the trees,
his skull lay tangled in the leaves.
Bambi watched with hollowed grace,
the morning light upon his face.
"No more hunters. No more pain."
"This is my forest. I remain."
Mama deer pranced diffidently
checking the meadow for man’s smell
Her spotted fawn trots along
unaware of danger
checking out the food
of pure and sweet
glorious
verdant
grasses
If you have never been in touch with a spirit animal
follow me for you have simply not paid attention
I have so many I am a walking wildlife zoo
My ultimate most powerful spirit animal is the deer
neck to neck with the wolf and the eagle
Deer reminds me to be demure, to wait, to listen
Wolf urges me to be primal, to howl as loudly as I can
And as often as I can, to be sensual and serious
To gnash my meat up, tearing it apart with gusto
Eagle encourages me to soar, to fly as high as I can,
To take myself safely to the mountain top, and
feed my eaglets any rabbit I can catch and carry
Wait. Do these spirit animals contradict each other?
Remember, I am a Gemini. Mercurial and changeable.
A chameleon also guides me, helping me to switch colors.
Chasing away playful raccoon another spirit animal
who is riding my spiritual dragon into the enchanted forest
yelling commands, followed closely by turtle who tries to keep up.