A/N- Hey guys, this poem is in the form of a sestina, which involves repeating words in a certain sequence and place. (google it if you're curious). So enjoy and please review!
Night Hunt
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Hush, hush whispers the wind in the dark
night as the ancient ritual of the hunt
unfolds around the unsuspecting prey.
Crouched low in the grass, quiet
as can be, gleaming in the starlight, eyes
focus on the target before the lioness
-
springs. Muscles explode the lioness
across the crackling grass, though the dark
as her companions race level. Their eyes
gleam green-yellow under the moon. Hunt-
ing by night they must be absolutely quiet.
Until with a clash they fell their prey.
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Screaming rents the air, the prey
does not give in so easy. The lioness
at his neck locks her jaws on tight, so quiet
settles in once more, the savannah dark
beneath the moon. Tonight their hunt
is victory and bloodied teeth gleam below the eyes.
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Fearful, and ever watchful are the eyes
of the other impala, afraid they will fall prey
some day soon to the masters of the hunt.
Growls of success rumble from a lioness,
spreading a terror worse than the dark
of the night without a moon, usually so quiet.
-
Another night they'll stalk so quiet,
the starlight up above making eyes
into glowing green lanterns in the dark.
Downwind and resting, injured prey
will fall before the mighty lioness
as she pads across the grassland in the hunt.
-
It is the circle of life, to either hunt
or be the hunted. Waiting in the quiet
until the golden shadow of a lioness,
realized mainly by her flashing eyes,
bounds forward at you, the prey,
from the stillness of a night so dark.
-
The prowling lioness is stalking on the hunt,
through a night dark from clouds and so quiet
that eyes blinking hide the sound of prey.