The ground is soft, with a feeling that’s cool <br />Twinkling like the stars, as the sun hits the dew. <br />The sun is warm, but I don’t trust the light <br />Any move in the distance would give me a fright. <br />The longed eared hunters that come in a pack <br />For the red skinned devils upon horseback. <br />No one can describe the feeling inside <br />As when the horn sounds and I have to hide. <br />You get not a warning, as they start the run <br />For me life or death, for them just fun. <br />Over wood, field and moor, hoping they follow <br />To keep safe the cubs, asleep in the burrow. <br />Their father will feed and bring them up strong <br />Please when I’m caught, let my death not take long. <br />You may think it sad that I’m thinking like this <br />But sixty-to-one, you know they can’t miss.<br /><br />Paul WilsonSuffield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/red-skinned-devils/
