Les Rêves Canadiens

                    THE STALKER

            I watched the hunter stalk his prey
            His fluid movements filled with grace
            The unsuspecting feathered foe
            Strutting in the meadows low.
            Preening and fluffing feathers high
            Not realizing danger's nigh.
            Each time the hunter slithered close
            The prey was fussing at her clothes
            To bring a cock close to a lair_
            Ensuring that by spring, the lady fair
            Would have a family in her nest
            A prize, an ,honour, what a guest!
            But alas, the gun was aimed and set
            To drop the prize, to shoot the best
            The enemy was drawing near
            and suddenly the air held fear!
            >From somewhere, I heard the muffled cry
            Of the hunter, as his prize flew by
            I smiled, but I would never say
            What deed that I had done today!
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