Guest Poet Carlee Spears

Tiger

Stealthy, beautiful

Hunting, running, stalking

Striped hunter, apex predator

Carnivore

By Carlee Spears

Note: Carlee's poem is an acrostic poem. She is 14 years old and is the niece of Steven Veatch. 

Guest Poet Carlee Spears

The Serengeti’s Shadow

Protecting the family

Roar echoing through the heat

Elephants give them wide berth

Dark mane flowing

Ambush in the golden grass

Teeth like ivory daggers

Onward the lionesses strike together

Roar the shakes the land

By Carlee Spears

Note: Carlee's poem is an acrostic poem. She is 14 years old and is the niece of Steven Veatch. 

Guest Poet Carlee Spears

 Deer

Skittish proud
Browsing watching standing
Forests thickets antlers watchful
Standing guarding bounding
Father protecting
Majestic

By Carlee Spears

Note: Carlee's poem is the Diamanté form. She is 14 years old and is the niece of Steven Veatch. 

Guest Poet Wyatt Spears

Donkey

Humble, grey

Trudging, straining, enduring

Hooves, rocks, veins, ore

Weighing, gleaming, tempting

Radiant, precious

Gold!

By Wyatt C. Spears

A donkey and a prospector in Cripple Creek, Colorado—the World’s Greatest Gold Camp. Photo courtesy of the Cripple Creek District Museum. CCDM 808.

Note: Wyatt's poem is the Diamanté form. He is 16 years old and is the nephew of  Steven Veatch. 

Smilodon: A Primal Portrait

Ancient chills cling to the earth as a heavy silence descends

Beneath gnarled branches, the very air thickens with dread

Crouched in the shadows, the Smilodon prepares its assault

Draped in pale gold, it haunts the brush with lethal grace

Eyes, intently focused, fix on an unseen prey

Fangs, curved like ivory daggers, catch the light

Grim power vibrates through the coarse grain of its mane

Hunched shoulders ripple; a tidal wave of force held in check

Imposing in shadow, it carves a dark shape through the green

Jaws, built for the kill, remain locked in a terrifying calm

Killing intent burns deep, the singular spark in its soul

Low to the earth, it creeps forward—a silent, golden threat

Muscles coil like wire, every fiber primed for the attack

Near the tree line it waits, a phantom in its domain

Outlining the distance, it measures the distance of its prey

Powerful forelegs, anchored deep, prepare to launch the strike

Raw sinew stretches as the great cat breaks into a sprint

Saber-teeth, the namesake of terror, are bared to the sky

Thick-necked and brutal, it slams into the side of its mark

Unstoppable momentum carries the hunter through the kill

Vales and frozen forests echo with the sounds of the struggle

Warrior of a lost world, a living embodiment of prehistoric power

Xenacious hunger drives its existence, a constant, primal need

Yielding its spirit to the cycle of life, the titan stands tall

Zenith of its era, it vanishes into the mists of time

Smilodon from 1903. By Charles Robert Knight.
Public Domain.

Selfish Solitude

As I grow older, I reflect on the cost

of selfish actions and what I've lost.

Regret and wisdom entangle in thought—

lessons learned—though dearly bought.

By Steven Wade Veatch

Evening Reflections: Duck Lake

Late in the day the sun sighed.
The lake sparkled as if polished.
The ducks did not notice
a salmon-colored sky as it unfolded—
but a loon did.

As the sun fell from the sky
a fading twilight filled the horizon.
At family gatherings a campfire 
blazed and crackled, 
filling the air with popping 
embers and wisps of smoke.
Dancers arrive in the shadows,
people of the past, 
linking hands, they spin 
to the plaintive fire’s song.
And then they are gone.

Nothing is the same:
the empty swing, 
a broken lawn chair,
the vacant cottage. 

A restless loon flutters, 
its wings beat anxiously,
as it desperately tries to hold 
onto the last remnants 
of the fading day, 
unwilling to succumb 
to the encroaching night.

By Steven Wade Veatch