Cougar Wild: a Poem About Wildcats

Stealth and grace
     on padded paw,
Silent running
     is your law.

Though your tracks
     leave ghostly trace;
Still you seldom
     show your face.

Freedom is
     your birthright, too:
Sad, behind bars
     in a zoo.

Lawless hunters
     prey on you;
It's they who should
     be in the zoo!

Majestic grace and
     flowing beauty,
Protecting you,
     our sacred duty.

For as this planet
     whirls through space,
We must insure survival
     of each race. 

For as long as I can remember, I've loved animals. I have a special affinity for cats of all types, and for Wolves. I believe they are my spirit animals.

It was on a day I read an article about hunters slaughtering wildcats mercilessly, and without good reason. "Sport," they called it. Far from sport, it was outright murder. Sad, and angry as I was, this poem sprang from my pen; my muse wrote without my aid.

It is one of the very rare rhymed poems I've ever written.