A wolf's eyes. Indeed, that is what they are
His blue eyes are those of a predator.
He watches and listens to the forest.
Ready to fight those who dare to attack.
He does not feel the warmth of the fire.
To long has he been traveling alone.
To often has his guard come down to sleep.
And paid for it in his own hot, red blood.
I can fight, yet he protects me from harm.
Many times has he saved my life from evil ones.
Though we have even more food he hardly eats.
"Not hungry," says the man who hardly speaks.
Diligently he watches and listens.
He smiles in thanks for the blanket I give.
Smiles are rare on this dear hero's face.
I help him as much as I am able.
I, his friend, knows he is vulnerable.
He has seen much death, yet he remains strong.
The young warrior has seen much sorrow,
But under the strength is a man's heart.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryThis is a working collection of my poems. I do not usually write poems, yet occasionally poems come out.
