Poems About: HUNTING

Like a flock in need of a shepherd
languishing on vagaries of life
open to attacks of predators
from all flanks a sitting duck read more »

In old Claraghatlea when I was a young boy
Walks in the old fields I used to enjoy
And Summer evenings out hunting in Pomeroy's bog
With Pudsy our dark brown hairy cattle dog read more »

Saddle up my piebald pony
Fill my saddlebags with jerky
For I travel to the Rockies
To hunt the great white turkey read more »

He hired a professional sniper to shut him accurately in the heart; one shut, one bullet, quick and perfectly done.
after walking out from the meeting with the sniper, a cold thought melted his guts:
'why i need to be hunted and shut dead? '
'is it important to die like a hunted animal, or a hero' read more »

I've been through that coastal country where only saltbush grow
The land of the huge salt pans like giant rings of snow
In that vast part of South Australia revered as the Coorong
To the people of the Dreamtime it always will belong. read more »

The spur winged plovers breed in depths of Winter
And in the night you often hear them cry
Perhaps they scream at fox who is out hunting
As in the darkness he goes prowling by? read more »

Rising pasture as if viewed from angel flight
A mind-blowing beautiful East West imagery

The central topography high up on the hill read more »

She creeps upon a midnight clear
three legs to pounce upon her prey
who always run away with ease
from my fearless tortoiseshell Dusty. read more »

The mother zebra could not save young one!
The hungry lioness had killed it fast;
It turns to watch the gruesome act half-done,
And walks away with sad a heart, at last. read more »

Australian native wild life disappearing and on fox you put the blame
But red fox would not be here if white man never came
'Twas the aristocracy introduced reynard for the hunt on sunday
And for the mistakes of colonial man there is a price to pay read more »

The moon shines on the Araglen clear waters
And the trout for fly jump in the river pool
And in the gentle breeze new leaves are stirring
And the night air one might say a little cool. read more »

If life is a fox, are we the howling hound?
Forever chasing toward the greener hills
Down on the moors searching firmer ground
Hunting forward for those distant thrills read more »