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The Hunter (Narrative Poetry)

His time and wealth all there
For him, possessed just to enjoy
But hunting was a pleasure where
His shooting skills he could employ.

Flew his plane to the island
At will, he shot the fleeing birds
The gun obeyed his able hand
Only the sound of death was heard.

One shot took down the creature
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Brian Jani 05 June 2014

Wow Cynthia this poem is awesome

4 2 Reply
Caroline Bulleck 14 November 2012

This has such a strong message and is so touching and flows so nicely. I really like it.

5 2 Reply