The Monarch Poem by C R Clark

‘Twas a cold November morning from my platform on a pine
I noticed through the tangled woods a moving, horizontal line
The line became a shadow as it moved into the light
Then, at last, it took a form as it flicked a tail of white

‘Twas a monarch of the forest out to make his duteous rounds
To seek and offer service to any maidens that he found
Majestic in appearance in the woods so dimly lit
He was nothing short of awesome as he stepped out in the field

He was highly silhouetted against the latent, hoary heath
And steam puffed from his nostrils like a locomotive’s breath
His rack was tall and handsome his neck a massive swell
As he foraged in the frosty lea, mighty antlers touched the dell

Each step he took was measured as he read the neighborhood
And his acumen rewarded as a form before him stood
‘Twas a maiden of the woodland with compliant attitude
So he uttered his intentions and a rendezvous ensued

He got right down to business and in a moment it was done
His service had been rendered the maiden had been won
He pawed the ground and grunted as the maiden moved along
He hooked a limb and left his scent, then cautiously moved on

As he continued on his course he was coming near my tree
As I began to draw my bow his eyes came straight to me
It took him just an instant to know something was amiss
His flag went up and he was gone, my golden chance was missed

Even so, that day was special
For nature opened up her arms
And revealed to me, her very soul
And embraced me in her warmth


Copyright by C R Clark-9/01/07