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Bloodline

denizens of the dark,

a scarred black cat

- familiar

— within the surrounding area

and an entombed …

Dracula,

“The Bloodletter”

… in his coffer,

a mnemonic tribute
 
to people …

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draculabloodhuntnaturespiritualspiritualitygodlovepoetpoetrypoem

Final Destination

unwavering and determined
till the end,
filled with willpower.

… is this rare form,
burned alive from the inside,
lucid,
the thrill of the hunt
is much too abrupt
when they’re frozen out of fear

with my last breath, I’m to rest each day
only so that
the past undeath doesn’t catch up with me.

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destinyhuntnaturespiritualityspiritualgodlovepoetrypoempoet

Springtime

I've been waiting for spring for a long, long time. These March and April are very cold. There are no blossoms near my house.
I am reading a lot of poems to feel spring.
Today I read a charming verse by James Henry Leigh Hunt. It is called May and the Poets.
«There is May in books forever»...
That's so true!
What is your favorite poem about springtime? I'd like to read it.
 

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springhuntfavorite

Vermin

VERMIN

 

A broken body, matted red,

tossed in the air by wailing hounds.

The quick, brown fox is spinning, dead,

amid the banshee bugle sounds.

The inane braying still abounds

when port is drunk and fables spill,

about the right of man to kill

an animal who, turning back,

stood proud and noble on the hill

and faced the crimson vermin pack.

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fox huntingfoxhunt

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