Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
scot-powersPoems
He cast's a long shadow in the cool morning sun striding with purpose the job must be done Out by the woodshed quietly does he make his presence known by whistling softly For many years now he loved what he seen the good and the bad and all in between Over the years the joy's drained away making this job seem harder each day ***** long hours spent oh silently crouched in the shadow of the old growth trees Waiting for a sign surely there will be another visitation patience is the key He prepares himself so stolidly does he for the visitors he must receive Scare them away any way that he can keep the homes safe from raiders of the land Invaders without conscience intent on the feed no malice intended but will not concede The problem arose because of what we thought was a kind thing was not to be Disrupting the law that nature provides giving courage to those by feeding their kind Soon there becomes no other way to deal with the problem the beast must be slain So wearily the man slowly does raise rifle to shoulder then he does pray Pray that his aim's true quick it will be no pain for the critter whatever it may be Woe be to him now he sit's silently crying so softly alone in the trees
0
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 10:46 PM UTC
The Job
He cast's a long shadow in the cool morning sun striding with purpose the job must be done Out by the woodshed quietly does he make his presence known by whistling softly For many years now he loved what he seen the good and the bad and all in between Over the years the joy's drained away making this job seem harder each day ***** long hours spent oh silently crouched in the shadow of the old growth trees Waiting for a sign surely there will be another visitation patience is the key He prepares himself so stolidly does he for the visitors he must receive Scare them away any way that he can keep the homes safe from raiders of the land Invaders without conscience intent on the feed no malice intended but will not concede The problem arose because of what we thought was a kind thing was not to be Disrupting the law that nature provides giving courage to those by feeding their kind Soon there becomes no other way to deal with the problem the beast must be slain So wearily the man slowly does raise rifle to shoulder then he does pray Pray that his aim's true quick it will be no pain for the critter whatever it may be Woe be to him now he sit's silently crying so softly alone in the trees
scot-powers
Written by
scot-powers
Canadian
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 10:46 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem