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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 09:50:27 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 150482
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => No love between Leopards and Wolves
[time] => 2009-06-05 00:10:11
[hometext] => In this piece, it seemed the pet names where more appropriate plus only those who know would understand. It seems though that things like this can never suvive one sided. And fear can be stronger than love. I wouldn't say it's my best pieces though.
[bodytext] => There she stands, proud, strng and noble. Dark eyes alight with the hunt, alert and sharp as she keeps watch. White ears pricked high, listen intently to her serrounds. Fur sweeps with the icey breeze, she hears the approach. Tenses her body with realisation, the foot falls are open. Knowing her spots only a beacon, especially on the snow plane. Pupils narrow with the scent, stealing herself before she turns. The sounds of both hearts in their ears, turns too face him. A lone wolf stands bold, Strong and overconfident. They gauge and weigh each other with each breath, not giving and a inch or pushing the bounds. Predators to the core, smelling their own in each other. The coppery scent fills the air, the metallic taste of blood bought to their tongues. The smell raises pulses, inturn perpetuating it's self. From the Leopard and the wolf it stems, as matching heart wounds they both bear. Both feigning strength, both sensing pain. Circling almost more as instinct than action, feeling the air electric. Niether hostile, but sensing the iminent. The Clouds above give spilt second warning, as the snow storm rages from nowhere. Cascading across the area, they submit to parlay with a nod. Both forced to shelter from the storm, and with reluctantly from the cold. Bedding down as rivals, the Storm rages and the chill sets in. Pulling close for warm the blood pools, tainting and entwining a bond is formed. Rivalry, animosty all forgotten, and within the cold hours they share. Time passing, the closer they get, until the wolve's blood gets to close to the wound. The storm had abaited and her pain reclaimed, the fear of the wound inciting her to flee. With a pain pounce, the wounds reopened. The leopard disapeared in to the pure white, now dusted with crimson Like roses on a white back drop, the wolf rises to give chase. But know the fear in her eyes, the chill of the was too much for the wound. Bedding down once more in their cave, [comments] => 0 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 22 [informant] => jester [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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