My nostrils sniff the air seeking,
the various scents tantalising.
Then I smell the bison and throwing
back my head I howl to my pack.
The bison start to panic and flee
as we follow hot on their tails.
Distant between us shortening at
each stride I pick a young bull.
Going in for the kill my mate joins
me and together we bring him down.
Helped by the pack his death is quick
tonight we all eat and I will have milk.
Returning to my lair I settle down to
nurse my six hungry cubs. Knowing only
too well that tomorrow it will all
happen again if we are to live.
09/02/2018
Full moon in the sky, curse of the werewolf on the rise
And the poison runs through his veins and then
The man becomes the beast once again...
FULL MOON OVER WEREWOLF going in for the kill
Tearing through the mountains and hills, on the heels
Of his next bloody meal, all the stories you've heard
Are true, so please don't go out tonight if you don't
Have to if you value your life 'cuz there is a FULL
MOON OVER A WEREWOLF tonight...
And across the country side you can hear the
Tormented howling, let that be a warning for the
Curse of the werewolf can happen to almost anyone
In any neck of the woods, I sure would hate to
See it happen to you...
Evil comes in many forms and this one is the Devil's
Pet, FULL MOON OVER WEREWOLF hungry and
Starving to death...
Full moon in the sky, curse of the werewolf on the
Rise!
She said our love was through,
And added, going in for the kill,
‘I’m sorry, I don’t love you;
I never have and never will -
This relationship gives me no thrill.’
I said, ‘I wish you’d stay.’
I’d thought our love would always be -
But then I turned and walked away:
Without her there to nag me,
There’d be no fights and I was free…
Happy Heart, 2nd June, for Francine’s contest
Boxing, a brutal, bloody, painful sport.
This is my life.
I don't spend my life on a tennis court,
I'd rather be in a boxing ring than have that as my life.
Boxing is a game of skill,
to others it's a silly blood bath.
I just love going in for the kill,
then they lay there and I laugh.
Boxing is my crack
I can't stay away.
It always brings me back,
always ready to play.
The ring is my garden
It is my sanctuary.
It gives no one pardon,
In November, December, or January.
Blood, sweat, and tears
goes into the game.
No more fears,
no more shame.