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NOTE*  -  *The largest animal in Great Britain, a red stag named Emperor who stood over 9ft tall, was last night shot dead by a trophy hunter. The antlers of the majestic deer are highly prized, and after pictures of the stag appeared in the national press last week, the animal was tracked and killed in Exmoor, Devon.



These mist covered mountains of the highlands,
‘twas here that I once freely wandered upon nature’s pasture grounds,
Now I lie shrouded in the mournful fog of the lowlands,
‘twas here that I was met by a pack of bone breaking hounds.

The fresh dew upon the harvest of autumn’s final flowering,
‘twas here that I chewed the grass of sweet nature’s offering,
Now I grow cold upon the ground where I was stalked by dark doom,
‘twas here that I left life’s rocky way under a hunter’s moon.

The air of the early morn moor with the sky above my dome,
‘twas here that I ran and with joy loved and royally roamed,
Now my legs will nevermore click or clack over my domain fenced with tree gates,
‘twas here that I wooed and won my shy majestic mate.

She, my queen of the green woodlands, she was my wife and my empire,
‘twas here that we romanced in the fading summer’s fire,
Our charming child, my princess of these grassy hills now cloaked in shade,
‘twas here that she saw her father the monarch in death finally fade.

In the chorus of the dancing dawn awakening upon the horizon’s golden rhyme,
‘twas here that I sang the tune that will drum till the end of nature’s time,
They will come with stakes and wood and cross and bow me to the beams,
‘twas here where they hacked and tore off my enchanted crown of weeping dreams.

The scent of the freshly mown grass mingles with the green pine,
‘twas here that I drank the perfume and nectar of the divine,
My eyes glaze, my breathing falters, my clay chills, my soul no more sings,
‘twas here that I finally returned to the hands of my Beloved, the eternal King.

"...I shall now graze upon the sacred acres of my Creator,
I shall frolic and run free in the tender fields of endless splendour..."




©Rangzeb Hussain
In time, every season must conclude,
And, with it, the love I have carried for you.
Oh, let us be children and live without care,
Live without love, the must subtle of snares.

I ask not for a summer, spring, winter, or fall,
I'd rather have never loved you at all.
Because sadness takes the most destructive of forms,
No April showers; just thunderstorms.

In our youth, we are destined to be apart,
Conclusions both heal and destroy the heart.
Shameless crimes we've committed now wear on my soul,
Perhaps we'll find healing once we're both alone.

Love makes people foolish; I will not be a fool,
Before the world finds me weak, they will first find me cruel.
But if I let our love die, all has not been in vain,
You will heal with the seasons, and find love again.
Nov 1, 2008
Tear across the cerulean sky
Hinder my actions
Use my thoughts against me
Never will I stop running
Down from the gods, they are
Ever so frightening, it
Reminds me of this lightning
They undressed beneath the covers, half to stay warm and
      half to conceal themselves from the eyes of one another.
They had only done it once before, and it had been completely dark then.
      Lovers though they may be,
indulging the sense of touch
        before the sense of sight felt somehow
                less disarming.
She pulled the sheet up to her shoulders as she
        positioned herself atop his frame.
As their bodies blended and moved together,
        she was careful to not let the sheet fall.
After a few moments, she noticed him begin to chuckle.
Prepared for insult, she asked with caution,
           "What is it?"
He took a breath and whispered,
          "It looks like you're wearing a cape,"
               and they both collapsed in laughter
 Oct 2010 Kathryn Houghton
Lenna
I stood in the sun
and thought of you
and of my junebug heart.
It clings on, unshakable,
even after it’s death.

And you like that about me,
my junebug heart that is.
You think you have one too.
I know that you don’t.
Yours is fleeting.
Fare thee well by islets of time,
Beauteous blooms of fragrance; of thyme.
Gliding symphonies beckons thine eye,
Gentle minds float toward sky high.

O cues sung by the siren, allure!
Once, fusion of reason borne pillar.
Twice ponder, may our paths entwine,
Thrice to act, unlike the tranquil Seine.

Like angelic enigmas par Euler,
Soar upon the painted auric frontier.
Air fresh: an ebullient morning dew,
Wisdom: moisture for the thirsty few.

By spring fountain, if thou art inclined,
Bright sparrow among the bovine herd.
Lo, argent quarry of dust- liquid guile,
Behold, product beyond thunder- gale.

Scents of lavender assail thy sleep,
Euphoric dreams, we welcome with glee!
Sleepy horizons, a glorious dawn,
Morning filled with a trillion suns.

Some time, some day: travel the stars,
Mortal shackles unchain my awful maw.
Pupil of Aristotle, Darwin, and Vinci,
There lies truth; a transient hierarchy...
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