Sonnet To A Werewolf
#2 of Poetry
If my previous poem, "Path of Paws", was a story, a saga, a song, of my own trials and revelations, then "Sonnet to a Werewolf" is my song to the others out there, to the Werewolves of this Earth.
Who is meant to read this? Just A Werewolf? Any Werewolf? Perhaps, or maybe the one that is meant to read it is one who needs to read it most... who is unknown to me at this time. To that Werewolf, out there somewhere in this world, I send now this, my song, to you... You and your brothers and sisters as well... To you, The Beautiful Creatures.
A gratitude of thanks must go to fox_galt for helping me get this sonnet into a presentable form!
What beauty lives amongst the foliage?
Thy mighty creatures of our silver moon.
Thy presence fills the night with wisdom sage;
Oh how thy joyful life is for a boon.
Thou art so mighty with thy stately claws,
For every second thou art in control.
For thou art made to run on brawny paws,
And stare with golden eyes into my soul.
But why art thou thy beauty forced to hide,
Why then must thou keep thy power clothed?
Is Man so filled with hatred bona-fied,
That beasts like thee must be forever loathed?!
I long for a time when I might can see,
Thy o' joyous form stand now before me!