Mountain Lion Poems - Poems about Mountain Lion

it was one of those gorgeous days mountain aiir was pine needle fresh and clear let’s climb this tree, I suggested. my cousin Slim had a weird feeling about it. he wanted to walk on. I insisted, having no feelings at all until I was face to face with a mountain lion forty feet up...

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You can be a turtle, a deer, a buffalo, a dog, frog or a sphynx, But you never know true love until you have fallen for a lynx. I have a pair of them, and they adore me upside down and inside out. They give me joy and companionship; they truly make me shout! You may refer to them...

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I grab my flashlight woman being killed in woods my husband stops me he knows animals irritating me greatly mountain lion cry if you ever hear scream of woman being killed its mountain lion...

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Mountain goat and mountain lion Some jokes that had people cry’n They were dumb and lame Who else could we blame? They fell on deaf ears most of them dy’n....

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it came from my left my hair stood on end a woman being murdered? raped and murdered? my heart was beating faster now the woods have never looked this dark I am horrified mountain lion my friend tells me later no I argue It sounded like a woman being raped and murdered exactly he said, smiling...

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lone mountain lion hides in thistleladen brush waiting for his love...

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WILD MOUNTAIN Lion KILLS AND EATS DEER unfriendly hearts love shall a female, weak deer skips whilst watching the lake bright place for watching a small, menacing deer runs beyond the lorry Highest bitter mount when mountain lion eating after kills eats deer 5/27/19...

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Future race car driver, does not even need a track Chip on my shoulder, sign on my back Kick me, beat me, smack me, and delete me. No matter to me. Lifeless? Life full? We will see… Expected the worst. Ready to fight, flee, or burst. No idea why. Ready to scream, too proud to cry. Enraged all of the...

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In the woods no right of way, no right to live, no right to play. I travel quickly, as dusk is beginning. Woods are thick, on this day. Wood tick and spider heaven, I walk gingerly, on wet old leaves. Dog has deserted me, long gone, chasing things she thinks she sees. The air is thick, the sun is...

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