Wolf Love Poem by Deborah Cromer

Wolf Love

Rating: 5.0

Here in the mountains there is much to see
So much different than down by the sea
Sometimes many leaves are blown by the wind's motion
Causing a stir, creating sounds of the ocean

Here I can find peace upon this giant hill
I come here alone on my own free will
My favorite place here with many wildflowers
I come to wonder of forces, magic and powers

The few little animals here know me
They live here and see me often, I let them be
Always I have brought them treats and care for all
Again my senses detect a painful call

The sound brought me to a nearby place
I saw the reason and tears wet my face
The cry was of pain, loneliness and fear
The young wolf mourned, his love lay near

I moved closer trying to decide
The young wolf startled moved off aside
He growled protectively, eyes watching around
He accepted me and whined as I dug the ground

After gathering rocks for along the grave's edge
I rested, seeing the sad wolf over by the ledge
I was afraid he wished for death to end his pain
After the death of his love, what was there to gain

I placed the rocks with flowers and a stake
A Northern wind blew and I began to shake
My concern turned to the dog and where he would go
He had left so quietly, I did not know

The wind blew stronger, giving me a chill
I walked away wondering why man has to kill
On my way back to the place where I live
I prayed aloud that God would forgive

Nearing my house the sun was sinking down
Clouds blew together and just hung around
Gazing out my window, I stared out so far
Through the darkened clouds I saw a star

The moon was full and shining through
It broke the clouds when I thought of you
It shone so bright, I had to really smile
I stayed that way for the longest while

A black massive cloud covered the moon's light
Blocking all the twinkling stars from my sight
I thought of the dog and where he had went
Thinking of our time together and how it was spent

He seemed to trust me while I buried his mate
I stayed up that night until it was very late
The morning came early, I opened my eyes
My mind played the memory of the lone wolf's cries

The sun rose fast lighting up the whole sky
My mind would not stop playing that lonely cry
The wind picked up and brushed my face
Releasing a desire to return to that place

The trail this time seemed different to me
Somehow it had changed from how it used to be
I do not know what I expected to see from the grave
Now, I hold it a memory I will always save

There were many more rocks, placed around it with care
Flowers, pine cones and gifts were there
With great wonder I found a place to go
To wait and watch where nobody would know

It was not long before I found out
What this mystery was all about
The young wolf returned, tired without rest
Placing the rock and doing his best

I watched him for hours cover the mound
He gathered every rock to be found
I realized he was finished as he began to lay
He had worked so hard throughout the day

For the longest time so still he laid
I moved closer, feeling very afraid
Reaching his body, I knew he was dead
I buried him also with words to be said

Sunday, August 23, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: love
Daniel Kempson 23 August 2009

Deborah this is a stunning poem and is going into my favourites box, I have a great affection for the wolf, the Timber wolf mates for life which many humans cannot 10 +++ Daniel

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Greenwolfe 1962 23 August 2009

I agree with Daniel Deborah. I enjoyed it tremendously. So many writings are really a waste of ones time in reading, but I found this really enjoyable. Thank you so much for writing this. I will take it as a favorite as well. GW62

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Pensive Phoenix 27 November 2009

This is a very touching and memorable poem. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and am adding it to my favourites so I can enjoy it again. Thank you for sharing.

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Steven Silent Wolf 08 November 2009

Deborah - Thankyou for finding the Wolf in yourself and Yourself in the wolf. Both are then much more than either alone. I will enjoy browsing your poems.

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From what I know of wolf, coyote and wild dog behaviour the howl or the yip is a call to dinner.That's how they call their pack and the pups.Wildlife doesn't waste food as this is a law of natural survival..you were very lucky that you weren't surrounded or attacked by the lone wolf or its pack.. As a romanticised version of an endangered species it's a wonderful fairy tale but nature has never tamed the savage beast within us or any living creature.It's eat or be eaten... You did a great job telling the story and keeping the rhyme going but beware that there is danger in Nature's beauty.. a ten from me...

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Ken E Hall 27 August 2009

All creatures great and small resound in this sensual poem, wonderful poem but it just makes me think of the horrible cruelty to so many animals and battery farms for human consumption. Enjoyed your poem so much+++++10 REGARDS

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John Knight 25 August 2009

Hi Deborah - this is a lovely poem which tells a story of love and devotion - even unto death in the animal world. In the UK we learn many lessons of love and social niceties by observing the animal kingdom at work and play. We try to use humane farming, for our animals, animals and of course as you know we are crazy in our care of pets. I like cats so you might like to read my poem TO A CAT written in the style of ROBERT BURNS! (I hope you can understand it) . personally I like long poems - many of the poems on Poemhunter are too short to do justice to the title. Your poem is reminiscent of the Great American Poet - Longfellow - with his epic poem Hiawatha. I looked for a key word in every verse: vision - peace - care - sorrow - empathy - love - concern - prayer - star - heaven - creation - trust - desire -memory - wonder - mystery - fascination - sacrifice. When analysed in that way it makes on realise just how much emotion is in the poem. God gave man care of the whole of His Creation, flora, fauna and all the Earth's resources. Al Gore has pointed out that over the last two centuries we have made a bit of a mess of the planet - but its not too late to make amends. Good word usage and good rhyme. I have sent you a personal note about metre! I have scored it 10 for pathos!

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Deborah Cromer

Deborah Cromer

Portland, Oregon
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