Best Hunt Poems
I'm searching for a new man.
(My lemon quit on me.)
I'm a discerning seeker.
(The smallest dent, I'll see!)
I want a younger fellow;
(Low mileage is a must.)
Required is great get-up-and-go
(an engine with no rust).
He should desire me in his lap.
(Seat warmers feel so good.)
He's gotta be in tiptop shape.
(I'll know what's under the hood!)
Low-maintenance, I value.
(oil changes quarterly)
He must look good and make me proud.
(Buffed shine, I love to see.)
Trustworthiness, I so desire.
(Don't like those tow truck calls!)
He must always keep pace with me.
(Don't want a thing that stalls.)
April 1, 2017--entered in Brian Strand's April 2017 Premier Contest
I am a Burn’s Night baby
(named after the Ayrshire bard)
So we’re off to hunt a haggis
locating one is extremely hard
We scour the hills of Scotland
and have dull and rainy weather
There’s not a haggis to be seen …
they’re all hiding in the heather!
All of a sudden we spot a rare haggis
So hubby fires his gun into the gorse
The haggis scurries into the undergrowth
Hubby missed the wee beastie of course!
We spend hours out there on the hills
All the little haggis are all lying low
I scour the land with my binoculars
But not a hair of one is on show
The sky is getting really dark
we are tired and soaked to the skin
so we descend the slopes to the village
we see a butchers, and swiftly walk in
Hundreds of haggis are on display
With gaping mouth I stare in surprise
Their orange hair is so beautiful
I cannot believe my own eyes
I tell him we’ve been on a haggis hunt
And he glowers at me in shock and alarm
says the one’s on the hills are protected
He gets his stock from a breeding farm
I choose a wee haggis from the shop
When it’s baked we both have a slice
Haggis is a Scottish delicacy
I’ve got to say it tastes 'offally'* nice!
* Haggis, the national dish of Scotland, composed of the liver, heart, and lungs of a sheep minced and mixed with beef or mutton suet and oatmeal and seasoned with onion, cayenne pepper, and other spices. The mixture is packed into a sheep's stomach and boiled. Information sourced from google.
01/24/18
Form = Free Range Verse
The Hunt
Mans desire to hunt
Testing skills from the beginning of time
I had outfitted myself the day before
With camouflage, and all the tools of the trade
The excitement of catching my prey
Outwitting my fellow hunter a plenty
Tracking for hours and hours on end
Off I went in search of the trophy
In my jeep and down the hunters path
Being not so familiar with the terrain
I often backtracked, here and there
Moving from one place to the other
Silently and with anticipation
Looking forward to bringing home my kills
I had already a few scores to my name
Now for the final
The pièce de résistance
That made the hunt all the worth while
Bang! I got it
Hunts Tomato sauce in Isle seven
Oh how good the spaghetti dinner will be
Hope she appreciates all the fine hunting you see
I have done at Wal-Mart to make this evening show
Candles and guitar in the shimmering moonlight
The hunter so proud for being her shopping Knight!
Me and McGee, Both needed a job
But the Boss, only needed One man
So he gave us a test
To find who was best
It seemed like a very fair plan
We finished the quiz, we done in a wiz
As we handed them to the old Sod
Then we waited to see
Just who would it be,
The one going home with a job
Then he said right to me
It's as plain as could be
Although your tested the same
The job is all yours
You'll be running my stores
Then thanked McGee having came
So I asked the boss
Why'd you give him the toss
Since we both got the last question wrong
Then He proceeded to say
In a professional way
And explaining it didn’t take long
"Well, when, at the last question
You wrote "I don't know”
And I won’t say your friend is a cheater
But on the same question
McGee, went and wrote
A simple reply 'Me Neither"
After Legend got blown up along with
all of the city zombies,
I was now the sole survivor and sick and tired of
hiding out at Hobby Lobby,
bored of making necklaces, soaps and candles
and doll houses every single day,
I decided hunting countryside zombies should make
up a good part of my day,
deciding to lure all of them south to the Everglades,
that way the alligators down there could have a feeding frenzy day,
running down there as if I were a female Forrest Gump,
the zombies right behind me slowly catching up,
finally making it the edge of the great swamp,
I lured the zombies close by and heard my first chomp,
taking a risk with my ammonia and urine alligator repellant
sprayed all over me,
the alligators came out snatching and eating all the zombies
except for me,
thank God because it gave me time to flee,
desperately searching for a bathroom around the glades,
from drinking on my run down there way too much Gatorade.
10-30-16
Said the Chipmunk to the Hawk
Said scared, little, tail-striped chipmunk to red-tailed hawk,
“I am hidden over there where you will not find me.”
Said hawk in a swoop to another branch, “Jiggle that
tail again, so I’ll dive and sweep you off to heaven!”
Crouching as flat to the earth as she could be, chip-
munk said, “But I am already there where all points
of heaven reveal bliss...” which did perplex red-tail hawk,
who gawked up, then scanned all around for
some clue of heaven in this forest he knew he knew,
as she provoked, “You see?” But with his instincts
darting everywhere, hawk replied, “You lie! You
make riddles of my threat!” To which she flashed to
the opening of her tunnel, quick as light, calling,
“Heaven does contrive for good in life!” Hawk
affirmed a new place of some prey and turned.
Was he not made to hunt? Not for dramas like this?
Hawk bent over his feet, lifted his wings into flight
aimed at rustling leaves not far away. Hawk, while in
his flash, asked his forest, “Heaven, does it spread
as far as over there where I go?” Forest said, “No know,
no.” Hawk did not understand...In her tunnel, chip-
munk dropped two acorns from her cheeks to eat.
————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally Young eslinger 2/2021
He listened for them in the wood
as daylight blossomed, poised to prowl
For breakfast, breast meat sounded good
and Cat could feel his stomach growl
Soon, struck by a cacophany
of cheeps and chirps, of coos and caws,
Cat snuck up on them, tree by tree
and hushed each cluck with teeth and claws
They paid no mind, so were plucked clean
from every nook where they would sing
but had they looked, they might have seen
him right behind them and took wing!
When Cat had eaten every bird,
he retched a ball of beaks and feet,
spat out one final bone and purred,
outstretched atop the spongey peet...
On a hunt for a treasure, I will open the door
A place to get dirty, to search and explore
“How boring, …just junk!” say a few who pass by!…
But for me there are stories, at a blink of the eye..
With each visit, I wade through the dust and the gloom
How can I use this? Should I buy that? Do I have room?
Will it be cheap, what hides in the heap..
Can it be fixed, with tricks or technique?
Something deemed useless, discarded with time….
It belonged once to strangers, but should it be mine?
A weathered old trunk, or the chair by the door
Diamonds in dust, on the walls, on the floor
I’ll discover a gem, rusty, dark and alone
Musty and sweet, something made of old wood
Each thing tells a story, legends valued in gold
I could give something life, let it see sun again
A treasure, revealed….after the clink of the till
For mere pennies to pay, I will haul home my thrill
Lost in a time zone, now, today it is mine….
And back on the track of the years left behind….
________________________________________________________
11/6//16
Contest: The Hunt
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
The moon plays at being the midnight sun
with abandon he struts across the sky
in such majesty it catches my eye
I bow in obeisance, my heart is won
Behind him come plunderous clouds of white
riders on horses with dust in their wake
racing steeds on a quest to overtake
the renegade moon in his selfish plight
Closing in for capture they poise their net
as the stars watch their proud King's demise
the clouds press on eager to seize the prize
and use the moon's light to their own benefit
The final bugle sounds, in hues of gold
The sun peeks up to watch it all unfold
‘the truth done bent my ear; it whispered soft and long’
it soared before my vision; caped in gentle song
Inspired by : the truth, by Becky Forbes (2025)
______________________________
In diminishing sunshine
I sit back in long grass.
Silent and vigilant
soon my quarry will pass.
My eyes face the forest,
fixed firm on grass verge.
Observing as shadows,
and all the trees merge.
As darkness succeeds,
before the moons somber rise.
Woeful whistling of wings,
betray a duck as it flies.
Far below from the creek,
a lone frog starts it’s croak.
Soon followed by others,
as if sharing a joke.
First my skin feels the breeze,
as the cabbage trees flap.
Dry leaves knock together,
supplying a crowd clap.
My pulse sharply quickens,
to the faint snap of a twig.
A startled bird chatters,
my prey must be big.
As the moonlight arrives,
I strain my eye and my ear.
Looking and listening,
for my quarry of deer.
I’m breathing so deeply
Did that gorse bush just move?
My hearts beating fiercely
Perhaps the sound of some hooves?
Suddenly, a noble old stag,
Emerges, into full sight.
Emits his rut enraged roar,
My neck hairs stand up in fright.
Looking quickly through lens,
aiming to be silent and quick.
This proud beast will soon vanish,
at the first sound of a click.
His antlers are heavy,
they’ve had plenty of wear.
One shot with the camera,
and he’s no longer there.
The tiger traces, through it's jungle home,
His prey he chases, just then, the crackle of bone.
Sleekly stalking, through shadow of tree,
His prey just skulking, oblivious, carefree.
Nostrils twitching, green eyes shining,
Pupils dilating and paw's barbs refining.
Lips pulled back, canines showing,
It's the Tiger's tact, saliva flowing.
Such a wonderful creature, watched in awe,
Marvelous features, a strong, crushing jaw.
Watching his hunting in divinest anguish and rapturous pain,
In this death we should not languish, the creature that was slain.
I suppose that's just nature, the way of the world,
Just stay form the Tiger's abature, lest his claws would be unfurled.
“Fall sings its song in a rhythmic glissando voice”
for the feathered leaves on flight, rustling to rejoice.
Inspired by : Autumn’s Russet Leaves by : Lin Lane (2025)
I wish i could turn back time
stop myself from committing that crime
my heart is torn the more i think about it
nothing in the world will ever fit
i regret ever saying goodbye
and also ever making you cry
i wish those feelings would return
but i guess its my turn
to be the one whose feelings are crushed
and turned to nothing but dust
i wish we had made it together
maybe then things would be better
looking back those were my happy days
but now I'm nothing but a mere slave
to what my heart feels inside
from the truth that i fear
and no one else will ever hear
of the love i have for this girl
who throws my head into a whirl
whenever i take a step forward
i always get brought back
seeing you happy is all i want
so for now i will stop my hunt
for the love that i want from you
that is nothing less then true
but trying to make you feel the same
that for me only brings shame
Eagle's flight
at great height
prey in sight
running, fright
talons might
A meal sought
nature brought
lesson taught
never fought
rabbit caught