Tuesday, 19 August 2008

The Hare.

Dew Flirt.
Mysterious wild thing
of the ploughed earth,
birthing in the furrow and
living for the free, open ground.

Tales of mystery
and magic
surround you.
How little we really know you
The Wild One.

Familiar to the goddess, Freya,
as the black cat
to the witch.
You stand tall,
tipped ears erect,
and meet my eyes with
a fearless gaze.

Then you are gone,
leaping and flying
through the air in one
gigantic burst of speed.

Sleep with your eyes open
if you will.
Dance to the rhythms of time
as you have always done.
Shun taming,
stay free; but
give me the occasional glance
to gladden my heart.

3 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

you've definitely captured hare-ness here - just as has the sculpture above - I especailly like the 'fearless gaze'

The Weaver of Grass said...

It's funny, isn't it - some greetings cards have beautifully painted hares and yet the essence of the hare isn't there -they are such magical animals that they are difficult to capture. Thanks for saying I have managed it.

Dominic Rivron said...

I really like the elemental quality of this poem and the way it exults the animal. Norman MacCaig wrote a few poems actually called "in praise of..." this and that. This could have been "in praise of" the hare.