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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/761852
by kevlar
Rated: E · Poetry · Hobby/Craft · #761852
Just a poem I attempted. Hope you like it.
Leaves fall gently in the vast emptiness of a dying world.
A breeze shuffles through the trees.
Colors not seen through the blackness all around.
An owl’s hoot echoes from afar in the night.
Turkeys slumber high in the mighty oaks.
A chill climbs up my spine.
Sitting there, motionless, on a stump in the forest wild.
Cold steel rifle at my side.
With safety on, I await my prey.
Eyes keen yet hindered by lack of light,
I scan the forest from left to right.
Silhouettes formed from shadows scramble my perception.
Red crimson beads stare in my direction.

The coldest hour of the night is the hour before sunrise.
With hand-warmer in my pocket, I brave off the chill.
Dawn sets in with a mellow light.
Haze lifts from the morning dew.
In the blanket of fog I feel I am hiding.
But with the animals’ keen sense that just isn't true.
My eyes still peeled for any welcomed movement,
But ne’er could I have seen the bead of my gun.
The bright rays breaking through bring cheer to my day.
The haze lifted in an eerie sort of way.
Birds began to chirp,
Sunlight sparkling off the dew.
Bringing full meaning to living
God's new day beginning.
Misty leaves clinging tight,
Branches scattering the light.
Angels smiling and adoring,
Welcoming this new fall morning.
The emblazoned sphere radiated high,
Dazzling bright rays slice the sky.

The sun pressed on, rising higher in the sky.
Flowing through the trees in magnificent bright,
The full sphere I could not see.
Some low clouds endeavored to block the rays from view.
The sun drove right through.
My tarnished rifle gleamed in the light.
Breathing in the cool air I took in this marvelous sight,
Though still I fought off shivers.
Cold unhindered by the heavy hunter’s garb I wore,
The coal in my pocket was the only warmth I had.
Tis the heat I knew I’d soon be longing for.

Geese flew in small numbers off towards the south,
Way up over my head.
I marveled at the “V” formations,
And dreamed of flying with them instead.
Their honking was the only sound I’ve heard,
Since the birds stopped chirping an hour before.

I smiled at the thought of this, being in the wild outdoors.
The shivers subsided a little,
As I took off my gloves and drank down my last swallow.
The hot chocolate was still warm despite the frigid cold.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much longer ‘till snow.
Repressing a shiver as the chocolate wore off,
I put on my gloves and made a low cough.
This cold weather was testing,
But I fought off the thought.
That ten-point rack can’t be too far off.
I’ll stay out here longer and continue the hunt.
Any minute now a herd of Whitetail will cross.
Today's my day, I can't be at a loss.

My eagerness died down and I began daydreaming.
The rustling of leaves I did not hear.
Soaring above clouds through the eyes of an eagle,
I could see everything so clear.
I made my decent to the treetops below,
As the deer munched on the bait contently.
I followed the stream ‘till it became too shallow.
The eight-point buck finished the last apple.
As I took to the skies with a trout in my beak,
I could have sworn I heard a distinct bellow.
Opening my eyes I jumped with a start.
The buck looked up at me.
I sat stock still throughout this plight.
The deer trotted out of sight.
For the next hour I stared in disbelief,
At where the deer escaped me so freely.

When I realized the lack of bait on the ground,
My sanity took a full minute to come back around.
I heaved and I sighed.
I grieved and I cried.
My composure I could no longer contain.

Sixty seconds passed.
I came to at last.
I then took my seat,
Grabbed a bite to eat,
And from behind I heard a crunch.

My disturbances had taken most fowl to flight,
And any creature around would have burrowed down under or run from fright.
So it stood to question why this animal was so dumb.
I awaited its appearance while my fingers grew deathly numb.

From out of the shadows something did come,
Eyeing me intently hoping I’d drop a crumb.
Nibbling on its acorn atop the dry leaves,
I felt rather generous and gave up my cheese.

The squirrel didn’t stay curious and took off for home,
And the Fall winds grew lively as the sun made its way down.
Not sure where I faltered, nor where I had failed.
But the daydreams persisted, despite the dusk air.

When darkness overcame the world all around,
I pried my rifle off the frozen ground.
Trudging back over frozen leaves,
I noticed some white drifting down from the trees.

“Is this snow?” I exclaimed, my excitement now showing,
Despite being so numb I was still glowing.
I brushed off my cap before it could melt.
Several small crystals sparkled in the moonlight.

I opened the door to my old country home,
To the smell of turkey and yams and corn.
I greeted my children, my wife, my family and friends,
And told of the snow that’s now falling from the heavens.

My wife staring in awe disbelief,
I knew from her face she must be as excited as me.
As I looked around at all the family once more,
I felt like I was forgetting something for sure.

Looking in everyone's glaring eyes, I felt there must be something stranger.
In a low, stern voice, my wife whispered, “Have you really forgotten about Thanksgiving Dinner?”
© Copyright 2003 kevlar (kevlar at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/761852