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kirk-thomasPoems
The night is upon us Stars glowing and twinkling Like sequins on a blanket of black The sounds of the forest An orchestrated song Crickets chirping, Owl a hooting The rustle of the trees I sit here on duty watching over our clan The noises I am accustomed to Would be deafening if I were not I sit atop our campsite The flames of the campfire dancing Emitting a low glow of light Shadows of the forest dance To the song of the flame I am alert, my senses clear I smell the rain coming It will be here in a day or two My eyes trained to focus In the low light of night I am the night sentry This is a job I must do The trickling sound of water Faintly heard from afar stream I see every part of our camp From my post within a tree The campfire pops and crackles I do not flinch to it's sound I know the sounds of the night I catch a scent of something On the cool breeze of night The scent is wild and thick Slightly burning my nostrils Then the sound of twigs snapping Snapping in time to footsteps I look in that direction I see nothing, but the smell rises I ready my bow and strain my eyes The snapping getting louder, closer One hundred paces from campsite? Maybe more, I hold my breath Listening through the sounds of the forest Intent on hearing the oncoming threat My eyes focusing on the direction The snapping closer still It stops, the orchestra is all I hear I take a long breath Then hold it as I listen harder Bow still at the ready I listen, I wait, I slowly breathe Time seems to slow down almost to a stop I peer at the direction of the snapping Nothing seen, but I know it's there Maybe the campfire creates fear in it But it did not detour! I slowly set myself comfortably I am ready, my bow is ready Then suddenly the snapping starts again Only faster and heading to camp I hear my breath, it has become fast I hear my heartbeat in my ears I still hear the snapping And the sounds of night Thirty paces from camp? Maybe closer, I see the brush move Shaking violently under it's strength I point my bow, I am ready Heart pounding, breath speeding The wild, thick scent ever imminent I wait for what seems a lifetime For the invader to protrude From the forest into view Ten paces from campsite? It bursts forth from the thicket Large and tall, but fast I take a deep breath, hold it My arrow ready, I pull back Feeling the muscle in my arm strain To hold steady and create force I release my arrow My shot sure and true The arrow meets with invader A crimson cloud of rain explodes As arrow connects The sound of a heavy fall The low moan as life escapes I remain at my post I watch intently After feeling assured I lower my bow and continue watch We will investigate the invader In the morning, as my job is Night sentry.
0
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 2:42 PM UTC
Night Sentry
The night is upon us Stars glowing and twinkling Like sequins on a blanket of black The sounds of the forest An orchestrated song Crickets chirping, Owl a hooting The rustle of the trees I sit here on duty watching over our clan The noises I am accustomed to Would be deafening if I were not I sit atop our campsite The flames of the campfire dancing Emitting a low glow of light Shadows of the forest dance To the song of the flame I am alert, my senses clear I smell the rain coming It will be here in a day or two My eyes trained to focus In the low light of night I am the night sentry This is a job I must do The trickling sound of water Faintly heard from afar stream I see every part of our camp From my post within a tree The campfire pops and crackles I do not flinch to it's sound I know the sounds of the night I catch a scent of something On the cool breeze of night The scent is wild and thick Slightly burning my nostrils Then the sound of twigs snapping Snapping in time to footsteps I look in that direction I see nothing, but the smell rises I ready my bow and strain my eyes The snapping getting louder, closer One hundred paces from campsite? Maybe more, I hold my breath Listening through the sounds of the forest Intent on hearing the oncoming threat My eyes focusing on the direction The snapping closer still It stops, the orchestra is all I hear I take a long breath Then hold it as I listen harder Bow still at the ready I listen, I wait, I slowly breathe Time seems to slow down almost to a stop I peer at the direction of the snapping Nothing seen, but I know it's there Maybe the campfire creates fear in it But it did not detour! I slowly set myself comfortably I am ready, my bow is ready Then suddenly the snapping starts again Only faster and heading to camp I hear my breath, it has become fast I hear my heartbeat in my ears I still hear the snapping And the sounds of night Thirty paces from camp? Maybe closer, I see the brush move Shaking violently under it's strength I point my bow, I am ready Heart pounding, breath speeding The wild, thick scent ever imminent I wait for what seems a lifetime For the invader to protrude From the forest into view Ten paces from campsite? It bursts forth from the thicket Large and tall, but fast I take a deep breath, hold it My arrow ready, I pull back Feeling the muscle in my arm strain To hold steady and create force I release my arrow My shot sure and true The arrow meets with invader A crimson cloud of rain explodes As arrow connects The sound of a heavy fall The low moan as life escapes I remain at my post I watch intently After feeling assured I lower my bow and continue watch We will investigate the invader In the morning, as my job is Night sentry.
This is a visual/emotional journey. I hope that I can take the reader on a momentary trip away from reality. (C) Copyrighted Kirk Thomas 2009/09/18
Written by
kirk-thomas
English
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 2:42 PM UTC
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