Poetry

Orang-a-Ugly

written by: stinasdad

Sweeping brush in jungles deep
the beast slips on without a peep
without a word a grunt a pur,
there is someone that it runs from
High in the sky with hawklike grace
the hunter flies a predator's pace,
the trees above begin to thicken
the hunter dives , he's one bad chicken
the prey is frozen in jungle muggy
it seems the end for the orang-a-ugly,
she says a prayer and then relief
stares in the sky in disbelief
for so it seemed its dive was stopping
it just released a monstrous dropping
its aim was perfect, victory complete
for she was covered from head to feet

• Tweet
• Share