The Hunter
Belly to the floor, I gaze at the horizon, shimmering in the distance.
The wind screw through the dry savanna grass, like a mow through harvest
The reflection of my scope glistens in the sun.
And within my sights lies my prey
A beast, a social lion, an incredible catch
Hugging the ground I crawl ever so closer, eluding its senses.
And from within my belt I draw a fresh cartridge and silently slide it into place,
Like a nipper through flesh
With the eternal patience of a poised lion I gaze down my glassy sight
And wait for a full view.
Patience,
Patience,
Patience,
Then, unaware of the hunter that stalks him,
He strides out from beneath his tailing tree, solely pauses, as if to stop and think.
Swiftly I adjust my aim, until the whirl is clean
Now, in complete(a) position and with my prey poised, I blackjack the trigger realising a shot to freeze all time.
It was quick,
It was clean,
It was sharp,
It was,
The perfect photo
By Nick Lilleyman
Thx for commenting man. Its all in the twist in the demolition :D
(For all those........
people out there, the hunter is a photographer lol.)
Its a good rime with good use of words, but i felt that this poem didnt really flow really well, it kinda sounded like stop-starting
but anyways good work
This is a genuinely good poem. The metaphors that are used are quite excellent. However, still though it is a free verse poem, I do think that it should still flow similarly to a poem that rhymes. Good effort though. I really enjoyed it.
Reminds me of the story I submitted called Found You! Its got a twist like that, if you ever bit it out. Like I said, I really liked it. spacious job!
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