(01) Serious Stuff Poem by J.B. LeBuert

(01) Serious Stuff

Rating: 2.9

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 excitement of the kill,
It could bend all, to its overpowering will.

The aroma of death would hang in the night air.
All of nature’s beasts now became subtly aware,
The mist and the fog that night could easily hide,
The lone Shewolf was alive, and ready to ride.

The building anger at the very last missed kill,
Would not relent, She was really feeling the thrill,
The excitement and thrill grew in the angry beast.
She quickly leapt from the large oak, ready to feast.

The big striped tiger was naturally caught off guard.
Shewolf swiftly attacked with her sharp claws set hard.
The male tiger didn’t have time to take a glance.
His death came quickly, and not by any mere chance.

Before the morning broke, the tiger was devoured.
Shewolf would stalk again, she wasn't a coward.
Just bones were left there, on the bloody forest floor.
Shewolf must eat again, She was hungry for more.

The night played out, and she had killed more than her fill.
The pups needed nourishment, but they couldn’t kill.
Now She was back to the lair, to feed her small brood;
She fed them all with her kill, this lightened the mood.

Life would continue daily like this for a while.
The bones laid there silent, in a humongous pile
The furry little varmints couldn’t get enough.
This continuing killing was Serious Stuff.

This is the first poem of the twenty poem Shewolf Saga. A unique format with the title as the last words in each poem and the poems have twelve syllables in each line. A new type of poetry has now been designed! ! The Saga poem of twenty unique poems, with 12 syllables per line and the title of each of the twenty poems in the last words of each poem. The rhyming pattern of aa: bb for each stanza of each poem. This unique format does not exist in any other existing poetry at this time!
Howard Savage 08 February 2016

Great poem with strong metaphors an profound structure.

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Adeline Foster 18 July 2015

An interesting nature poem. Have you tried my - Hand-Haying - Adeline

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Dave Walker 02 February 2012

A fantastic poem, really like it.

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J.B. LeBuert

J.B. LeBuert

Kenmore, New York
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