WARNING ~ The poem that follows will make you feel uneasy. If you are upset by Nature "Red in Tooth and Claw" ~ Look away now!
Image - Courtesy of pixabay.com
REYNARD
By John Yeo
The day started clear with a very fine mist.
I left the den in the early light
Gambolling and chasing my fellow cubs.
Father came back with a rabbit
We feasted well, tearing the fur and the flesh,
I got in trouble for spilling fresh blood,
All over my bushy red brush-tail.
The rabbit's fur blew away in the wind.
~
Then came the fearful sound of a horn
With hounds snarling and yelping.
Barking fiercely in the morning mist
A fearful sound that we hated.
The vixen, my mother, led us away
Father ran into the hunters .
My fearful father ran for his life.
The hounds caught his scent and gave chase.
~
We watched the hunters on horseback,
Following the hounds to watch the kill
My exhausted father dropped to the ground
The pack tore his soul to pieces.
Tearing his fur and flesh apart
Spilling his blood all over their fur
My mother the vixen led us away.
With tears that would soon be abated.
My father's fur blew away with the wind.
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved
By John Yeo
The day started clear with a very fine mist.
I left the den in the early light
Gambolling and chasing my fellow cubs.
Father came back with a rabbit
We feasted well, tearing the fur and the flesh,
I got in trouble for spilling fresh blood,
All over my bushy red brush-tail.
The rabbit's fur blew away in the wind.
~
Then came the fearful sound of a horn
With hounds snarling and yelping.
Barking fiercely in the morning mist
A fearful sound that we hated.
The vixen, my mother, led us away
Father ran into the hunters .
My fearful father ran for his life.
The hounds caught his scent and gave chase.
~
We watched the hunters on horseback,
Following the hounds to watch the kill
My exhausted father dropped to the ground
The pack tore his soul to pieces.
Tearing his fur and flesh apart
Spilling his blood all over their fur
My mother the vixen led us away.
With tears that would soon be abated.
My father's fur blew away with the wind.
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved
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