The Silent Cry Poetry Collection

Jackalope

Jackalope

Jackalope, Jackalope lies in wait by the lake,

Sits there expecting a monster to wake.

The clouds fade to stars, and at the time you begin to dream,

Jackalope stares and the commander of the lake is seen.

Jackalope, Jackalope sits covered in snow,

In a land where whistling cold winds blow.

Skeletal trees scatter the landscape,

The perfect residence for a yeti to take.

Jackalope, Jackalope bounds in the grasslands,

When he sniffs the air and stands.

A shadow seeps rapidly across the ground,

And the cry of the thunderbird echoes around.

What is he doing, traveling the world,

Letting the mysteries of the Earth unfurl?

Unearthing others like himself,

Ancient masters of difficult stealth.

Revealing more of the Earth then what you see,

Hidden anomalies that secrets have let be.

The world is so large and vast,

It is possible unknown entities have slipped past.

Jackalope, Jackalope creates a bed,

With fleeting encounters running through his head.

And as he nestles in this temporary home,

Jackalope closes his eyes in the knowledge he is not alone.