J.B. LeBuert Poems
|201.||(12) The Gold Rush Is On||2/13/2012|
|202.||(07) The Pack Of Four Is No More||2/6/2012|
|203.||(19) The Creator||2/21/2012|
|204.||(02) Shewolf Is Back||2/2/2012|
|205.||(01) Serious Stuff||2/2/2012|
(01) Serious Stuff
Dawn had approached and it slinked and slithered about.
It smelled the strong odors with its pointed short snout.
It knew how to hunt, creeping down and staying low,
The saliva began to secrete and to flow.
Her eyes were flickering, and skin pulsing with sweat,
Nothing would survive, anything that she now met.
It crouched down on the tree bough, just ready to pounce,
As big as an elephant, or light as an ounce.
Her teeth were shining brightly in the low moonlight,
It moved with grace and ease, never felt any fright.
Hair bristling with the sheer ...
He always smiled that enigmatic way
Mystery was his life, life was his play
Compassion fraught with sympathy
Pity concern and empathy
Never disdainful of others rights
Ready to protect the weak in fights
Disjointed about the causes he supported
Only original sin is awful, he purported