The Stag

The Stag

A Chapter by Dave Brown
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🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘🔘

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Native hunter through wooded glen

With crafted stealth, he does attend

Track's leading through forest’s green

He well hidden, not to be seen

 

Tracks deeper now where did pass

Through dampened fen, near shaded grass

Snagged tufts of hair carry heavy scent

As day's light has now been mostly spent

 

His body painted, being colored to blend

With sole intent does he quietly wend

Stalking the Great Stag as death’s guest

His deadly shaft will anoint endless rest

 

Slightest sound reaches flickering of ear

Great Buck senses a threat lurking near

Tho’ warrior hunter downwind no scent

The Great Beast’s caution still not content

 

Softest moccasin crackles, pon dry leaf

To Wary Buck, this portent of grief

Antlers flash as dusk yield's to night

A silent shaft makes good its true flight

 

A deathly shock to that once living free

But death abhors life’s false boundary

The shaft that invades the fading of light

Offers dark comfort within cradle of night

 

The Great Stag crashes his last remain

Through dark woods where once did reign

No concerns now of careless tread

He will run until he’s been bled

 

The vast wood land is quiet at night

Gone now the Great Stag’s initial fright

The huntsman follows, still out of sight

Through black trees, moon’s filtered light

 

Journeying on legs that barely respond

The Stag sees now that peace lays beyond

The way he saw, which now he does follow

Through dark wood to Death’s warming hollow

 

In this sheltered place, where life began

Where he rose up and fleet footed, he ran

His rule through woods and fields afar

Across the vast land, he followed his star

 

He was the power, he was the grace

His seed populates the great forest space

The body of a Champion, the role of a King

But to life’s spark, he can no longer cling

 

Now welcome to the Great Stag’s return

To this resting place and an endless nocturne

The great forest, forever his home

From this enchanted spot, no more shall he roam

 

Finally faltering with his last bit of grace

The end of a great heart’s life beating pace

He lays silent, last breath, final sound

Forever the Great Beast bend's to soft  ground

 

Young hunter, where Great Stag now lays

Down on one knee, to his God he now prays

A death chant rings out, sent to all men

Respect for the Great Stag, a Warrior’s amen

 



© 2024 Dave Brown


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Reviews

What a poignant write. Visually stunning, but the ending a tragedy. I like stags that live and roam. Your description was awfully good Mr Brown. In fact it was ace. So very well penned. I hope all is well over the pond.

Chris

Posted 8 Months Ago


Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

Thanks Chris
Good to hear from you
Wow what a beautiful write
Did u paint it too


Posted 8 Months Ago


Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

Ah! A moment to celebrate
I am assuming you have returned from having soaked up sun's warming.. read more
Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

Oh, no
That is not my painting but I thought it was well done
However, If I ever come .. read more
Powerful imagery and you paint the picture well.

Posted 8 Months Ago


Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

thankyou Thomas
I appreciate your taking the time to comment
hope you are staying dry .. read more
dearest Dave…I was Spellbound upon reading your Poem… we are all Warriors in our own Life… and we meet our end when the time is spent. So sad… gently, Pat

Posted 8 Months Ago


Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

Thankyou Pat
I was not happy with the ending of this
I actually didn't want to see the.. read more
Epic tale in poetic rhyme!!!
Well done! I wish I could write longer pieces like this.
Beautiful poem and wonderful descriptive imagery.
Meter and cadence good too

Posted 8 Months Ago


Anita Frader

8 Months Ago

It's just the way the poem dances when you read it.
Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

Ah...So
I will take more note in the future
Yhankee kindlee
Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

( T )
Such a fine portrayal of a magnificent creature. The white stag and the white buffalo were sacred to many Native American tribes who would never dare shoot one. But this great old buck seems to have reached his end from the same arrow. It's a sad tale.

Posted 9 Months Ago


Dave Brown

8 Months Ago

Magnificent indeed
Actually I was referring to the number of reads (4) you had when I first r.. read more
FGFRANKLIN

8 Months Ago

Meh. People read what they want I guess. Some people hate rhyme. Others hate poetry. I try to recipr.. read more

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Added on February 13, 2024
Last Updated on February 18, 2024


Author

Dave Brown
Dave Brown

Nanaimo Vancouver Island, West coast, Canada



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