The Wanderer Poem by Dawn Ferrett

When sun's last rays have westward fled
And gibbous moon shines overhead,
Within the shadows, dark and dread,
A figure moves with silent tread;
A creature of the night.

While weary world is fast asleep,
This nightmare beast doth softly creep.
He wends his way through darkness deep
Some fearsome rendezvous to keep
And shuns each shaft of light.

He tests the ground with snuffling snout
And crouching low he casts about,
His pointed ears a-twitch throughout.
What purpose draws this creature out
From his accustomed lair?

Close-by he hears a hooting owl.
The snarling fiend emits a growl,
Baring fangs in grimace foul.
Then, gingerly, resumes his prowl
With a mistrustful air.

Too soon the moonlight will be gone.
Blackness thrives where light once shone.
He knows his quest is almost done
And quickens pace to carry on
Toward his journey's end.

At last he sees bright lights, a street.
A shining path before his feet,
And sensing home and hearth and meat
He runs, his master for to greet,
Who welcomes him with tasty treat
And pets him, his relief complete!
Come home is man's best friend!