Poetry collection

[corncobman]

Page 273

Bounding In A Blur, Ferocious In Fur

A rustle in the brush,
A wild jet of fur,
A matte shadow, rush,
A worrisome flicker.

A vague hide, hurtles,
A barely visible blur.
A chilling encircle,
A tearing to torture.

A hushed, buzz, anxious,
A "Did you see that?" whisper,
A snort fearsome, fractious,
A wretched wolf as it were.

[corncobman]

Pg 274

Before The Pack Joins The Attack

He thinks they've been seen,
Popping up, adds the Swede.
The creature wild and mean
Has clearly got a bead.

Drawn knives, Norse and cleanser,
Eyes on the snarling creature.
The main fighters together,
Pointing to it is the leader.

It's a wolf, in the shadows,
It'll stay unless agitated.
They have to back away slow,
So that its pack's not aggregated.

A simple plan, to prevent a tail,
But before they can extricate...
Then comes a bellowing wail,
The howl signals it's too late.

[corncobman]

Pg 275

Slow Movements, Boring Prudence

Listen up you all, there's a change in plans:
She says "We are going this way instead."
No running, walk! Slow, boring movements, man!
They just have to move out of sight, she said.

Watching with their greedy gaze, beady-eyed,
Saliva drips from their ravenous tongues.
Sigrun's experience will be their guide,
Before they rush and make a pincer sprung.

They need to flee without exciting them,
To make escape from right under their face.
The wolf beast pack will hesitate to come,
Since they don't like to be the first to chase.

Can they evade from out the lupine storm?
Missing one has already led the swarm...

[Keep Looking]

Adventure 2, Page 275

A hundred footsteps beat the earth
walk softly through these woods
They speak of death, they speak of birth
walk softly and walk slow

They taste the air with shadowed tongues
walk softly through these woods
With golden eyes they watch as one
walk softly and walk slow

With terror sharp they pierce your heart
walk softly through these woods
But hunters never wish to part
walk softly and walk slow

Don’t let your footsteps feel your fear
walk softly through these woods
Lest hunter’s chase bring birth-death near
walk softly and walk slow

[corncobman]

Still page 275

Lupines Leapt To Intercept

Lidless eyes, suffer never to sleep.
Lipless mouths, licking endless sweep.
Lightless limbs, set ever to leap.
Lifeless minds, eternally creep.

Merciless maws, shadowed sickness seeps.
Pitiless teeth, a packed group to keep.
Heartless swarm, waylay the straying deep.
Ruthless wolves, to hunt wayless sheep.

[yeethaw_gang]

Adventure 2, Page 275 “are those wolves social distancing”

Gather, gather
Under the bridge
Where we shall watch

We shall watch them
And wait for the sun to set
And the shadows to grow

The dark will spread
And we will hunt
And the moon shall shine

We shall follow their tracks
Until we find them
Then we strike

Gather, gather
Under the bridge
Where we shall wait

[corncobman]

Pg 276

By A Pebble Betrayed, Instigating A Raid

"Go go go!" They quietly evacuate,
Into the horizon the specks disappear.
The bunch of mutts, dumb, just silently wait...
Until a loose pebble kicks them in gear.

The sound of the stone, 'klak', like a cannon.
Triggers the rush of the pursuit in the rain.
The wailing doom, all along the channel,
Hunt hot on their heels - storming in the drain.

Reluctance short lived, no fault of their own,
Provoked by hapless forces external.
Destruction impending, dogs seeking bones.
Aroused blood-hounds, bloodthirsty dispersal.

The flood of the rain, the howl of the wind.
With broken restraints, the onslaught begins.

[corncobman]

Pg 277

Go AWOOOOOO To Pursue

Beat the bloody path, in down pouring spray,
Flee the canids' wrath, under gloom and grey.
They were the seekers, now they are the prey.
Sprint the hard metres, work to get away.

Danger after danger, seeming endless.
Beastly dirge, assaulting of the senses.
Screaming surge, essentially defenceless.
Dire wolves cry, howling bloody vengeance.

Tracking in a train, wicked, sinuous.
The chase is made, grey hound racers vicious.
Winding up a lane, crooked, tenebrous.
To take face-to-face with them canine kisses.

The horde of tangled limbs, ceaseless chasers,
A mountain in grey, voracious razors.

[corncobman]

Pg 278

A Rebound Stops The Hound With A FWOP!

Snarling tusks, whirling claws, long tongue slashing.
Serrated clamps extend, seeking purchase.
Snapping those canines, jaws open, gnashing,
Savagery champing, rend, freaking urges.

A doggedly dental dangerous dance,
Snapping at the explosive Swede maverick.
Frantic, mental, by the seat of his pants,
He uses the yellow shielding fabric.

Snatching the parasol from the shepherd,
Mouth agape like a foolish bystander.
To ward off the troll beastie ill-tempered,
Clutching the tool as if a zwei-hander.

Opening the spokes, the life-saving foil.
Audible poke, stay the chasing gargoyle.

[Keep Looking]

Adventure 2, Page 279

Dizzy-dazed they drift to a stop with their heads glancing, cocked, at their leader who stunned by a yellow umbrella is shaking its head with a nauseous fervour

(there’s a pause in the chase but it surely won’t last)

And the five from whose heels all the chasers have reeled with the burst of a neon-bright flash might feel some relief but they must keep up their desperate dash

(the chasers are dim but their footsteps are fast)

With a wiggle and flick now the sixth of five slips from the arms of her bearer who yells with a start as she flees with a dart to the tall-branching sheltering tree

(she claws the damp bark and she leaps up the mast)

Shouting the scout calls to do what cat does and to flee to the tree now and to shelter above because there is a place that the chasers can’t find and their claws cannot climb

(for surely this technique has worked in the past)

[corncobman]

Pg 279

Sentry Shouts "Into tree! Now!"

He makes his escape, deflection complete,
Gets distance amidst mystification.
Meanwhile the cat wriggles with restless feet.
Slipping the grip of her own conation.

Making her way in the break in the fence,
Against impassioned pleas of the minder.
With phrases in orders that barely make sense,
The scout calls them to follow behind her.

"Follow cat! Do what cat! Into tree! Now!"
Said he the Finnish sentry verbatim.
Hopefully they'll comprehend him somehow,
And heed the arborous ultimatum.

Little time now to waste, they must all flee,
Into the boughs of tree sanctuary.

[corncobman]

Pg 280

Sit And Wait, Noisy Bait

They dash to the most nearest pre-selected tree.
Leader mutters "This won't end well at all..."
Scarcely climbing ere the snapping beastly,
By the skin of his cape, Swedish Meatball.

Throws a deterring olfactory jab,
With the spike of green-yellow umbrella.
How many times can they perform such stabs,
Before fatigue catches out the fellas?

Now stuck sitting, the not-so merry band,
Waiting for the downpour and horde to pass.
Out up a tree with no ladder, stranded,
No quiet break in the face of this mass.

Nowhere to go, nothing to do, but wait.
More in store for the corps in that poor state.

--------------------------------------------

The rain falls
The wolf calls
Seize the tree
Amidst the caterwauls

As dictated
Get elevated
The mutt snaps but
Gets its muzzle ventilated

In the boughs
As time allows
This way they'll stay
'Til come home the cows

[corncobman]

Pg 281

Ferals Perilous, Rack The Consciousness

Any thoughts on what their next move should be?
Can't just sit there and hope they go away.
They cannot be there indefinitely,
Might not even make it to the next day.

She's aware. They'll starve before the wolves leave...
And also they're making way too much noise...
Circling and snapping below them, they weave.
Limited options, confined is their choice.

Sounds all around, like a call to menace.
Lured like a beacon, while they sit and stew.
With each moment, a crisis tremendous,
Their favour weakens, with nothing to do.

On the precipice, unsure, on the brink...
Any ideas? Any? Think, leader, think...!

[corncobman]

Pg 282

Stuck In A Tree, It's Cowardly

She says "I refuse to die in a tree."
Unready, "That's where cowards go to die."
Death in such a place, the indignity,
Circumventing Valhalla in the sky.

Opening the umbrella repeated,
Trying once again to repel the beast.
It jumps, it's snatched, the tactic defeated.
They can have a good vantage point, at least.

The wolf stares at them. In its jaws - its prize.
Their defences becoming ever less.
What will it take to see the sun rise,
In the face of such tireless savageness?

Too far too stab, too noisy to be shot.
Not like this. This is not a warrior's lot.

[Keep Looking]

Adventure 2, Page 282

I swear I will not die here, though
My heart is beating hard and fast
The wolves are baying down below
But no, this breath won’t be my last

I will not die a coward’s death
While clinging tightly to this tree
I wish to die with sword in hand
To stand and fight and never flee

I swear I’ll find a path for us
I’ll forge a way from branches high
No baying wolf will hunt us down
For this is not the place I’ll die