shadow1950 Poetry (355)

She Fled for her Life

She was running for her life
feeling his hot breath and his
clutching at her clothes. Crashing
through the trees and thick undergrowth.
Stumbling, still feeling him getting closer
She gave a muffled scream as tumbling over
and over she fell down a steep embankment.
Lying there dazed a tongue started to wash
her face. Opening her eyes she realised that
her pursuer was a friendly boxer who thought
she was playing, never realising he had nearly
scared her to death as he grabbed her clothes.
thankfully she threw her arms around his neck.
Completely lost, she said, you will have to find
the way to her new friend, swiftly he led her back
to the road and sat by her car. Looking closely
she could see he was a stray and let him into
her car. So all turned out well for both.

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton

Biting Cold

It was a freezing night in Alaska, the temperature had
dropped to well below zero, fifteen below with a driving
wind that shrieked and laughed as it sped viciously past
causing lashing snow flakes to fall fast and furiously.

Up in the high mountains the man shook his head
as he stoked up the fire causing the flames to dance
creating shadows on the sod hut's walls. They seemed
to move with a life of their own. Forming first a pattern
a fleeting glimpse of a unicorn or so he thought. He needed
the storm to pass by so he could check out his many traps.

He was working two lines this winter for pine martin with
the odd trap for Lynx and wolverine who were a bane
always robbing his traps of his fur. He also had traps
deep in the river by the beaver's dams, the price of their
fur was sky high this year. He needed to hunt for more
meat too as his freezer was nearly empty and it would
be a long two months before the thaw and he could get
supplies flown in. Turning in he slept well waking to find
the storm was tailing off, quickly he got things ready.

Daylight was a brief five hours this time of year and
one was already gone. He worked the line nearest to
his hut first gathering up the furs and resetting the traps.
It was so tranquil now, the spruces stretched up high
seeming to touch the sky shedding the odd pile of snow
from laden branches that drooped with the weight.

Picking up some deer tracks that were fresh he followed.
Soon spotting some elk high up on the next ridge he
climbed around to get into position. He lined up his
sights on a healthy male and took a clean shot
dropping it in its tracks. Quickly he field dressed it
taking the hide and meat leaving the rest for the
various predators that were already gathering.

At least it was mainly downhill to what he called
home. Striding on as darkness started to fall
he soon was home and now the work began.
He have several furs to skin, stretch and pin
out to dry, others that now needed more
work, scraping carefully he removed and smoothed
the hides and hung them on frames in his smoke room
to colour and cure. Then he had his dogs to feed before
he himself could also eat. It had been a long hard day.

He now had a moment to reflect and gave thanks to
the elk who had died so he and his dogs could eat.
This would be his life for the next few weeks, then he
would take his furs to town to sell. He would be glad to
see his family again it would be nearly five months
since he was last home and over three since he had spoken
to another soul. Yet he would not give up this way of life.

The last thing he did before he flew out was to dismantle
his sod hut and burn the remains on the iced up river
removing all signs that he had been here. Next winter he
would build another in a different place and life would go on.

All in nature is round not square,
life moves in round cycles.
Planets, sun and moon are round
even the winds move in circles.

Yet we humans choose a square life
we sleep in square beds in square rooms.
We eat in square rooms, relax in square rooms
go to work in square buildings sit at square desks.

We are so out of kilter with nature
whose rhymes flow in circles.
Yet we ignore her ways and live
such very square lives in square buildings.

Why? because we invented furniture.
So much easier to arrange in square rooms.
We let comfort dictate how we live
even to the point of ill health.

Do we really need these nice but modern things?
We sacrifice our well being to be like the Smiths and Jones.
How much room do we really need?
Somewhere to sit, eat and sleep is all really needed.
Yet we continue to build massive buildings.

Taking land that could be better used
to grow our food, for what? To make
us feel more important! To show off
to our neighbours all we have.

Live by natures ways and a sense
of peace and purpose fills our days.
Indians knew better with their tepees
they lived as one with nature.

Old ways make far more sense
and for fill us far more than a square.
To be at peace and in tune with nature
allow yourself to live a rounded life.

As Autumn's breeze starts to show its face
so does a gradual cooling of land begin.
Mottled colours of brown, green and golden
leaves drift down, spinning and twisting.

Bare branches start to appear as the trees
are stripped and scurrying insects hide
under the new piles. Still the sun tries
to hold back the clock to no avail.

Long dark nights and short days
take over as everything begins
to sleep and some to die off.
Long cold days now approach.

All too soon snow is in the air
soft fluffy flakes that drift down
blanketing the lands in pristine
white that glistens and sparkles
like precious gems strewn about.
Winter's icy breath now rules
and mortals huddle by the fire.

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2016

He had watched her for two years
patiently waiting for her to grow up.
He knew all her movements, what
made her laugh, all of her moods.

Soon now it would be time, their time
together. She would be fifteen tomorrow.
He talked to her in his mind and heard her
answering him, telling him soon, very soon.

He had everything ready, matching clothes
to those she wore, the same shoes, even
her old doll that she had long forgotten.
Her room decorated exactly the same.

He knew she would be happy in there.
That she would soon adapt, how could
she not? They were meant to be together.
The voices had told him she was his, born
to be with him. He could not wait much longer.

The next day he waited for her in the park
as he walked his dog that looked like hers.
He saw her bouncing along towards him
and with a cry of delight she stroked the dog.

He told her it was time and saw the start of panic in her eyes.
Stuttering she asked what he meant? It is time for you to come to me, he answered, for our life together to begin. She turned to run but he was too fast. Grabbing her he quickly subdued her. Thumb on a pressure point he forced her into his van and shackled her to the floor, and gagged her.

As he drove off he could hear her kicking and fighting to get loose and
he thought it was not meant to be like this, why was she so afraid, he had
told her often enough about his plans. How they would be together always.
He knew she loved him it showed in her eyes that lit up when she was happy. Many times she had smiled at him as she passed, encouraging him to build it up in his mind that she was his.

He carried her into the remote house locking the door and bolting it.
He took her into her room and laid her on the bed. As she struggled he handcuffed her arms and legs to the bed posts so she was spread eagle
and forced himself on her in spite of her screams and tears.

Each day when ever he visited, she would try to move away, to avoid his touch and his kisses. Why was she like this? Had she been brainwashed against him? By now she should remember him and their earlier life together.
Then like a light being lit, he realised he had been fooled, it was not her. He had ended up with yet another imposter. Why did he keep being fooled by these lookalikes? He knew there was only one thing left to do now.
Sadly he entered her room, she smiled in welcome far too late. She
now disgusted him with her girlish wiles.

Taking the pillow he held it over her face
until her shudders stopped, and she lay
still and silent on the bed. When it was
dark he would carry her out and feed her
remains to the pigs who would devour every scrap.

They had done it many times before as
each imposter tried to fool him into
believing that they were her. The wife who
had died in childbirth twenty two years ago.

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2016

There will be many celebrating today
for it is Prince Charles special day

Champagne glasses brimming to the rim
one thing certain eyes will start to dim

Banquets and feasts a plenty
dishes price set at twenty

All the nobles of the land
on bended knees in the sand

Royalists world over raise a glass
those against royalty take a pass

What ever your stance
have a swirl in dance

For me I say have a great day
and at the end maybe even a lay

In the Dark of Night

The night was strangely hushed and cloaked
by the clouds scuttling across the silvery moon.
The breeze made the night air feel chilled,
yet her flanks were covered in sweat
as she strained, muscles quivering and chest heaving.

It had to be quick as she could hear predators
for now in the far distance yet moving in.
Still she strained the legs and face now visible.
One last final thrust and it is born already
struggling to find its feet and be ready to flee.

Anxiously the mother licked and licked
stimulating muscles, nerves and blood.
Valiantly the baby stands and starts to suckle
its feet going every which way as it fights
for control over its unruly members.

Within five minutes its ready to run
its mother calls it deep into the herd.
Surrounding them with a protective barrier
Out of all this years Zebra foals only a
handful will survive and sire other foals.

The rest falling prey to Lions and other cats
the crocs too will feast at the river crossings.
The odd sickly ones become dinner for hyena's.
Such is life on the East African plains, nature
culls all but the fittest ensuring strong blood lines.

Copyright © 2016 Shadow Hamilton

The child sits in the sun drenched meadow
appearing to stare very intensely afar,
what captures the child's interest?
Nothing that is obvious to any of us.

He seems to be listening intently
is it to the robin who is singing?
The wind brushes across his skin
and he shivers as it touches him.

His mother quietly approaches
gently takes his hand in hers.
He clings tightly and nuzzles her
drawing in her scent to his nostrils.

The sad truth is that this child
is both deaf and blind
no sounds he hears
and no pictures he sees.

He is trapped in a silent world.
And will never see his mothers face.
yet he recognizes her scent
he feels the wind on his skin.

Once I leave this mortal coil
remember me as I am,
both the good and bad.
Between them they made me
who I was during my life.

Life's experiences
were so valuable.
Carving my path
teaching me peace
and contentment with life.

Read, savour and enjoy
my various poems, through them
get just a hint of who and what
I once was. For as famously said
the written word lives on.

Mourn me not for I still exist
in people's thoughts as they
turn my pages. Blessing to
all you my friends. Never
fear the end there is none.

Death is but a new beginning,
so embrace it with both arms
and step forward boldly.
Your destiny lies ahead.

Shadows flit across the valley shading
more and more they are pervading.
Changing the shapes of all they touch
of the big trees standing tall in a clutch.

Creeping along altering as it grows
here a scary monster lurks and bows,
as branches bend in the gentle wind.
Out into the clearing slips the hind.

Its size blurred in the dark gloom
and startling at the water spume
As it soars up briefly from the stream
churning the water high lighting the bream.

As dawn high lights the sky, they fade
returning to normal, to dark farewell they bade.
Mysteries of night now sleep til dark returns
resting hiding under the lush green ferns.

Copyright © 2015 Shadow Hamilton

My carnal feelings fly sky high
as you walk towards me smiling
turned on I let out a sigh.

Fingers trace down towards my thigh
setting my insides quivering
my carnal feelings fly sky high.

I blush and squirm going all shy
the warm flush setting loose feelings,
turned on, I let out a sigh.

I wilt in your arms ending nigh
as our passions mix exploding
my carnal feelings run high.

Emotions running hot and high
course through veins like streaked lightning
turned on, I let out a sigh.

Slowly the world stops revolving
tensions freed both now quivering
my carnal feelings run high
turned on, I let out a sigh.

Like a bud slowly opening its petals
one by one to the sun's warmth.
So too does love creep into hearts,
once there it soon expands blossoming.
Spreading like wildfire it floods and fills
every little corner and all the cracks.

New love needs special nurturing
just like the buds. In caring hands
it thrives and grows casting all in
golden warmth that shines richly.
Releasing peace and touching
the souls of all who feel it.


Copyright © 2015 Shadow Hamilton