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scar Jun 2015
The hair falls, blonde and long:
A cherished doll. Birdsong
Echoes through the dale, as
Twilight casts its gaze and vixens wail.
Sparks driven out as spikes driven in
Places gone, things untold; people she's been.
An openness: the silky vapour
Evaporates, yet cannot escape her
Cocoa eyes, wide as the day they met.
He sees her yet. He hears her yet.
Though she says no words, casts a glance
Over her shoulder, flying askance
Ringlets quiver in the breeze,
Yet in the shadow of the trees,
No man appears. And yet she hears
A pheasant's cry: the yellowest canary
Its song a desperate scream, contrary
Muntjacs dance with target tails,
But the *****, ever hidden, wails.
Àŧùl Jun 2015
Alone I stand to wait for my better part,
On the black tarmac road through the greens.

Even if I stood away from this work of art,
On my part independently I am beautiful & cute.

In my dream last night I saw my inamorata,
She was coming hopping on the tarmac road.
A spontaneous poem for a picture of a deer I saw on Facebook.

My HP Poem #885
©Atul Kaushal
Nelize May 2015
Within the fields of grace
and moving waltzing wheat fields
moves the spotted feline with pace
black tears run down its face and yields
to the sun's tangerine gaze

The rythmic thomping of paws through grass
with undivided focus so clear
every step as fragile as glass
sounds perilous behind this feeble deer

Colossal strides that fly through air
pefected anatomy claws down its goal
rules of nature have never been fair
but one must know the key is survival
this deer now knows its fatal fate
is nature's gift to the cheetah's plate.
˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝
˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝˝

˝ ˝˝ s u m m e r   g r a s s   c a r e s s ˝˝ ˝
˝˝ ˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝ ˝˝ ˝˝˝ ˝ ˝˝ ˝˝ ˝˝ ˝˝
˝˝ ˝o u r   f i g u r e s   u p   t o   h i g h   j o i n t s˝ ˝˝  

˝˝ ˝˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝ ˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝ ˝˝˝˝ ˝˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝ ˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝˝
˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝ w i n d   r e v e a l s   d e e r   p l a c e____/˝ ˝˝ ˝

˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝

˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝ ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝   ˝ ˝˝  ˝ ˝˝
/  / / / //  / // / /// //  / // // /// / //  / // /
~
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic love
~
Tom McCubbin Apr 2015
A brown mule deer, waiting all winter
for this tall spring-flowered grass,
steps from my sight, devouring the landscape.

I cannot tell if light west wind tossles
the ripened heads of fortuitous stalks,
or the hunger-driven workings of
his mandibles gives me this impress.

I see some of myself in him when I look.
The oaks are breeding precious leaves.
The hawks defend their air space,
hover in shrinking circles.

This narrowing unique valley,
locked away, so far from anybody,
and yet close to the places where I think
we all would like to be.

The hills of the central valley are so many.
Enough of them keep rolling that I know
one rolls for whoever has tired of winter.

Soon the deer will be fat.
The grass will flip back to brown,
and nobody will come visit for many months.
This is how seasons turn.
Julia O'Neary Mar 2015
Does the wolf hunt the deer,
or does the deer offer her
body? As nourishment
If she does not run
must she die?
Her blood
stains
fur
oni Jan 2015
a fawn's
eyes
can be much more
powerful
than a buck's
antlers
ink Dec 2014
Its been a sad day
The skies are a murky grey
You had wished to be solitary
Into the forest you'd gone, involuntarily.

You walk along the forest trail
Looking about at the leafy veil
When suddenly, you turn to see
A deer overcome with glee

The deer dances and gallops around
It's winter coat flies as it bounds
Why it's so happy? You haven't a clue
But suddenly you don't feel so blue

You turn around and head back home
But the deer to you it seems to roam
You gaze into its brown doe eyes,
And through its eyes, you see the skies.

The stars, the moon, the trees, too!
They're all looking down at you.
They seem to beckon, they seem to call
For you to look up at them all.

You close your eyes, lay yourself to rest.
and wake up in your bed, feeling your best.
You sit up and find, it was all a dream.
But you seem to know just what it means.
Sometimes you just need to take life in deersteps.
Deersteps (n) : A metaphorical term used to display the act of being ignorant of negativities in a situation.
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