The Hunter And The Hunted Poem by Ross DixPeek

The Hunter And The Hunted



The Hunter and the Hunted

By
Ross Dix-Peek


Twas the year eighteen-seventy-three
In “Darkest Africa”, you see,
That these events did transpire,
Events most dire

A hunter came a-hunting in the midday sun,
Montagu was his name, an Englishman,
Twas but sport to him,
And the killing merely a whim

But in the bush, midst the tall elephant-grass,
Lay a lioness, too a killing machine, lean and fast
She and her cubs just basking in the baking sun,
Not aware of what their way was to come

And gaily through the veld marched old Montagu,
While behind him trudged his weary retinue,
Ah, he could not wait to his trophies show
To the folk back home, and in their adulation glow

But, in the interim the lioness had seen this stranger,
Who would her dear little cubs endanger,
Her fiery eyes were now intent,
And her mind upon this interloper bent

But, Montagu of all of this was soundly unaware
As he upon the majestic veld did enraptured stare,
And as the sun began to wane upon this African day,
Who was now the predator and who the prey?

The end did come sharp and swift,
As the lioness the long tall grass did rift,
And no sound did her presence announce,
As she did upon Montagu pounce

No time did he have to raise his gun,
No time did he have to run,
And soon the fearful deed was over,
And poor Montagu was no longer

And as his torn body in the sunburnt grass lay,
The Lioness into the African bush did melt away,
And, it was not long before the vultures o’er their meal fought,
The fresh flesh of an Englishman who thought killing mere sport!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Brian Jani 07 June 2014

Nice poem here Ross.keep it up

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Ross DixPeek

Ross DixPeek

Salisbury, Rhodesia
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