Hunting Poem by Bradley Lancour

Shooting star so shimmering bright,
smashing through the thick dark night;
growing brighter with progressed decent
until at last the light is spent.

Where are you on this beautiful night?
When stars blast in and out of sight.
I long for your soft and warm embrace.
We should be together; on this, the chase.

The moon is rising now as I turn to the east.
As though it were peeking out as some lurking beast.
Golden arc of soft and quiet light.
No. A beast does not radiate such a sight.

The warm glow fuels the fire inside
as my eyes yearn to catch your stride.
You are far away in your traveling home.
Sleeping snug. Resting. For tomorrow you roam.

I settle now inside my camper's bag
and wonder when I'll take my stag.
Hunting is a love, as hunting for my Love.
Illusive. Confusing. Challenging. Yet peaceful as the dove.