Day: November 13, 2018

Wolf

From several years ago, before I got my wolf-arrow-inner strength tattoo. I’ve always loved wolves. I think they’re gorgeous creatures and they’re also one of my animal totems.

Wolf:

I howl at the moon—white light streaming down to illuminate me,

Black eyes glow golden in the white light,

Gray fur glistens silver—sparkles like many diamonds,

Fierce eyes are laid upon you—a warrior’s eyes,

Arrayed in armor of gray fur glistening silver,

I stand before you,

I howl to you,

I call to the moon,

To have her show me the way,

The warrior’s way—fierce, proud, brave, protector of all,

I come to you in your dreams—my howl driving away the evil spirits,

So that beauty once again shows herself to all,

Her light healing,

And then giving way to night once again,

And so I howl at the moon once again,

My black eyes glowing golden.

Mountain Lion

This was from several years ago. I had an inspiration for another animal poem. I love animals, and the mountain lion is one of my animal totems.

Mountain Lion:

Eyes sharp as an eagle and black as night,

Coat sleek and tawny-colored,

Claws sharp as a dagger,

And fangs deadly sharp,

I prowl the mountains,

Keep to the shadows,

I keep to the night—it is my home,

I live for the beauty of the darkness.

Creatures of Magic

I love fantasy….dragons, unicorns, pegasuses, fairies. I find them fascinating. I have no idea how I came up with this.

Creatures of Magic:

Dragons soar in the sky—speaking words of magic to their brethren,

Pegasuses fly through the clouds—alighting on to each one,

Unicorns gallop through the mists of the forest,

Fires rage in the night,

Elves speak and sing of times gone by,

Mermaids swim through clear blue waters,

Dwarves pound hammers on to rock—they bring forth the jewels of a lost time,

Giants rage and bellow,

Wizards and witches cast their spells from the long gone magicks,

A lone werewolf howls at the moon—his cry heard by many but answered by none,

A phoenix bursts into flames—and rises from the ashes to begin anew,

Angels sing and laugh with merriness—the joy of life in their hearts and shone upon their faces,

Centaurs nock their bows with arrows of soft feather—they let them fly—high and true is their mark on              their foes’ hearts—and with that victory is shown true,

The sun rises and falls—showing its brilliance to all,

The moon comes on—its white light shining on through the black night,

And with the passing of the golden brilliance and the white light,

The creatures from the Mythical Age of Magic pass into time and legend—and are never seen from or heard from again.