Short Punter Poems

Gone with the wordless wind.
Confined by the source of the mind.
A world that found punter ways.
Is an abyss full of yesterdays.
A permanent resident of the rock.
Where variety becomes a roadblock.
An aesthetic view is a mark of quality.
Or am I the only one who has curiosity?

Written: May 14, 2023...

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Hunter

Ears are prone on the ground
To catch vermin's motion sound.

Up empty skies, eyes are cast-
In the dark sea they're steadfast .

On the veld, the long nose,
Trails to catch a whiff while close.

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Writers are a Natural Hunter
Of Gist and not the blind punter.

Fishing Gist in the deeper wild
With Guts is his or her brainchild.

Sometimes, the hunt of the day
Bestows Hunter no bag to flay!...

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