Poetry

The Protector (#118)

Moonbeams gaze down on the clearing field,
A thick forest around the clearing provides a shield,
The white wolf raises his head towards the sky,
Ready to howl at the glowing moon up high,
Hunger shines from his sharp curved teeth,
Long legs and powerful paws trample all beneath,
His slanted blue eyes are filled with fire,
The muscular body stands without tire,
His dense fur sparkles with each graceful move,
With a deep spirit, he howls solemnly and smooth,
A strong spirit runs through his blood, coursing,
Passion for his pack drives him, forcing.

Any Thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.