Wolves are majestic and powerful animals, embodying the spirit of the wild. They are symbols of strength, loyalty, and the inner spirit.
Wolf poems explore the inner wolf spirit and the connection between humans and nature.
They capture the essence of the wolf, from its howl to its fierce and loyal nature.
Poems about wolves can inspire us to tap into our own inner strength and courage and to embrace the wildness within us.
You May Also Be Interested In:
Beautiful Wolf Poems
These beautiful poems about wolf celebrate the beauty and grace of wolves, from their sleek fur to their piercing eyes. They capture the essence of the wolf’s spirit and inspire us to connect with nature.
He barks in the distance
Howling at the moon from jagged cliffs
Anxiously waiting for her response,
Dolefully widened eyes grasp for her
With a warmth withstanding gelid air
Her symphonious ocean drowns his cries
She illuminates her inconsolable sea
Her waves absorbing his mournful song
She reaches for him from high heavens
How terribly she yearns to be with him, just once more
2. The Hunt
by Misadventures of Crow
The hunt begins. The fur
of the white wolf
beckons me forth, along the trail
into the woods.
The smoke is the reminder of Her
The trap is set.
She guides me into it.
Hope is a clever animal.
3. Hopeless Outlet
feels like a wolf
if I were asked , are you okay
I would know not what to say
The way my feelings work
the way they ebb and flow
turns my headspace into an auditorium
full of noise
full of sorrow
full of love
with hopes for a better tomorrow
I guess I’ll say I’m okay because
I’ve got to chase this wolf away
It breathes down my neck
It haunts every step
it salivates at the thought
of sinking it’s fangs in again
and again and again
I’m hoping the meds take effect
like a huntsman
please release me from this beast
Until that time comes
I won’t stop believing that I can be
once again, it’s time to dump my brain on here
by Leocardo Reis
if men are divided
sheep or wolves,
then i already know
what is to become of me.
when my time comes,
when the slaughter is nigh,
i will stick out my neck
and tell them,
do it properly.
i am too tired
to do otherwise.
i find it preferable
to end this farce;
life will go on,
with or without sheep;
with or without wolves.
5. Morn’ Flower
by Kassan Jahmal
Cries of a wolf—howling in the
burns of a shadowy night. Preying eyes,
seeking, pouncing to hunt you out my dear.
Chasing love, or rather being chased by love
behind a trail of youthful winds. At the time
we still could count the scars on our knees.
Seems we’ve barely got skins holding solid
on our bones. Time is a she-wolf feasting on
once was youth. Her sharp tooth digs into my
eyes—gnawing my ability of sight.
I’m haunted by the long nights; seeming longer
if you’re unsure you’d wake in the morning.
Death is a mistress of non screaming echoes,
but a peaceful whisper of her calling. She knocks
at the door of my cold feet; a deathbed unlike
no other rest to your eyes. (It’s subtle goodbye)
But a longest night, makes expectancy of the day
brighter than it’s tomorrow. But a few extra hours
is never what we’ll borrow—still the hours of
wisdom we left behind is hoped to follow.
To let new things grow in the rises of one’s
written experience, as the story of a Morn’ flower.
by Neth Jones
can you land meat ?
or are busy being needlessly cruel to ‘lesser’ peers ?
could you even take a basic stalk about the woods ?
or would you be blistered
breaking in those brand new pricy walking boots ?
a full moon ?
maybe you’d drink to excess on those nights ?
maybe pick a fight or beat on your loved ones
but whimper the next day ?
that smart suit ?
ridiculous over your fur
heard you’re on a trendy fad diet
you fidget at your desk
you fidget on your screen
work is obscenely wasteful
distractions are just plain obscene
you are a coward to your soul
soiled by domestic inactivity
7. The Chapel Wolf
by Nickolas J Mckee
You shake and tremble inside,
As howling pierces through the stain glass.
For you have ran from the devil’s ride,
His born demon growling after your ***…
As you have made it through the chapel door,
You pray the lock keeps you safe and warm.
Your soul shakes and rattles to the core,
Around you your love is torn.
What is left of candlelight,
Forces you to fret among the pews.
For no one can save your soul tonight,
Bleeding outside your lover’s heart he chews…
Thunder strikes the cross to fall and crack down,
You choke and pray your dear rosary.
Your screams beg to awaken the town,
Asleep they are, Wolfberry.
So sweet the taste a wolf wants,
And sweet the taste the wolf will get too.
Scratching and clawing the wood it haunts,
Just a couple more seconds to get through.
Tackled down the door revealing the moon,
The death of darkness has fixed red eyes.
Your blood to the beast is not immune,
He latches on your demise…
Inspirational Wolf Poems
These inspirational poems about wolf inspire us to embrace our inner wolf spirit and tap into our own strength and courage. They encourage us to stand up for what we believe in and to face our challenges with determination and bravery.
1. The Wolf
Like a grey shadow lurking in the light,
He ventures forth along the edge of night;
With silent foot he scouts the coulie’s rim
And scents the carrion awaiting him.
His savage eyeballs lurid with a flare
Seen but in unfed beasts which leave their lair
To wrangle with their fellows for a meal
Of bones ill-covered. Sets he forth to steal,
To search and snarl and forage hungrily;
A worthless prairie vagabond is he.
Luckless the settler’s heifer which astray
Falls to his fangs and violence a prey;
Useless her blatant calling when his teeth
Are fast upon her quivering flank–beneath
His fell voracity she falls and dies
With inarticulate and piteous cries,
Unheard, unheeded in the barren waste,
To be devoured with savage greed and haste.
Up the horizon once again he prowls
And far across its desolation howls;
Sneaking and satisfied his lair he gains
And leaves her bones to bleach upon the plains.
2. The Wolf
by Imru Al-Qays
How many times have I set forth
with a bent back
and a waterskin slung on my shoulder?
How many valleys have I crossed—
lands barren as an ass’s belly
where the wolf howls
in its dire need?
Once when I heard that howl
I offered a reply:
“We’re hard up, you and I,
brothers in destitution.
Whatever we lay hold of
we soon let slip away:
times are always lean
for those who sow like us.”
by Isaac Mclellan
In winter, when the snows lie deep
In shapeless hillock, drifted heap;
When thick the hollow vales they fill,
And woods are trackless on the hill,
The wild wolves, famish’d, grim and gaunt,
Forsake their rocky mountain-haunt,
When frozen Nature’s hand denies
The food in summer it supplies.
Forc’d from their coverts, far they prowl
With gnashing teeth and dismal howl,
And, hid all day in darksome den,
At night roam round the haunts of men.
By cattle-fold or shelter’d shed
Where bleating sheep are hous’d and fed,
When all the farmer’s household sleeps,
And watch-dog to the fireside creeps,
These fierce marauders gather round;
They scent the air, they sniff the ground,
Then with a famish’d onset break
Thro’ wattled hedge and sheepfold stake,
Rending with their demoniac crew
The fleecy dam, the bleating ewe.
The farmer at the break of day
Looks on the ravage with dismay-
The precious flock, complete no more;
The snowy sheep-yard, red with gore!
From farm to farmhouse spreads the tale,
From upland hut to peopled vale;
All arm, the ‘wolf drive’ to prepare,
A hunt that all for leagues must share.
Some from the dusty rafters take
Their rusty guns of ancient make;
And some, late soldiers of the war,
The rifles that have slain so far;
The small boys birding-pieces wield,
Impatient for the hunting-field.
Forth then exultingly they pour
For circuit of ten leagues or more;
Their captains on their coursers borne,
Arm’d with the trumpet and the horn;
All wading o’er the snow-heap’d ground,
All to some common centre bound,
Marching with blast of horns and shout,
To drive the hunted wolves in rout.
Unharm’d the red deer boundeth by;
Scathless the wild-cats from the bough
Gaze on the rushing crowd below;
The coon from hollow of the tree
Looks down, amaz’d the coil to see.
‘Tis known in tangled-hazel swamp
The wolves have made their winter camp;
And here, vociferous and loud,
Concentrates th’ avenging crowd,
Engirdling as with iron ring
The wolves that to their covert cling.
At summons of the leader press
Thro’ briery, vine-strung wilderness,
A chosen band, with horn and cry
To fright the victims till they fly;
Who, mad with terror, seek to gain
Some outlet of escape in vain;
For everywhere a foeman stands
To slaughter them with bloody hands;
And soon is soak’d the spotless snow
With crimson blood from wounds that flow.
4. A Wolf in the Park
by Richard Edwards
Is there a wolf,
A wolf in the park,
A wolf who wakes when the night gets dark?
Is there a wolf in the park?
Is there a wolf,
A wolf who creeps
From his hidden den while the city sleeps?
Is there a wolf in the park?
Is there a wolf,
Whose nightly track
Circles the park fence, zigzags back?
Is there a wolf in the park?
Is there a wolf,
Who pads his way
Between the tables of the closed café,
Is there a wolf in the park?
Is there a wolf,
A wolf whose bite
Left those feathers by the pond last night,
Is there a wolf in the park?
Is there a wolf?
No one knows,
But I’ve heard a howl when the full moon glows . . .
Is there a wolf in the park?
5. The Wolves
by Elizabeth Madox Roberts
When Grandmother Polly had married and gone,
But before her father had given her Clem,
Or Joe, or Sandy, or Evaline-
Before he had given her any of them,
She used to live in a far-away place,
In a little cabin that was her home,
And all around were bushes and trees,
And the wolves could come.
At night they ran down out of the rocks
And bristled up their trembly fur.
They came and howled by Polly’s door
And showed their little white teeth at her.
Famous Wolf Poems
These famous poems about wolf are classics that have stood the test of time, capturing the spirit of the wolf and inspiring generations of readers.
1. A Story for a Child
by Bayard Taylor
Little one, come to my knee!
Hark, how the rain is pouring
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night,
And the wind in the woods a-roaring!
Hush, my darling, and listen,
Then pay for the story with kisses;
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,
In just such a storm as this is!
High up on the lonely mountains,
Where the wild men watched and waited;
Wolves in the forest, and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.
The rain and the night together
Came down and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine-tree roof,
And snapping many a rafter.
I crept along in the darkness,
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded,—
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it.
There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me:
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.
Little one, be not frightened;
I and the wolf together,
Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.
His wet fur pressed against me;
Each of us warmed the other;
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark,
That beast and man was brother.
And when the falling forest
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding-place
Forth in the wild, wet morning.
Darling, kiss me payment!
Hark, how the wind is roaring;
Father’s house is a better place
When the stormy rain is pouring!
2. St. Francis and the Wolf
by Katherine Tynan
This wolf for many a day
Had scourged and trodden down
The folk of Agobio town;
Old was he, lean and gray.
Dragging a mildewed bone,
Down from his lair he came,
Saw in the sunset flame
Our father standing alone.
Dust on his threadbare gown,
Dust on his blessed feet,
Faint from long fast and heat,
His light of life died down.
This wolf laid bare his teeth,
And growling low there stood;
His lips were black with blood,
His eyes were fires of death.
So for a spring crouched he;
But the Saint raised his head—
“Peace, Brother Wolf,” he said,
“God made both thee and me.”
And with the Cross signed him:
The wolf fell back a-stare,
Sat on his haunches there,
Forbidding, black, and grim.
“Come nearer, in Christ’s name,”
Said Francis, and, so bid,
Like a small dog that’s chid,
The fierce beast fawning came,
Trotting against his side,
And licked the tender hand
That with soft touch and bland
Caressed his wicked hide.
“Brother,” the Saint said then,
“Who gave thee leave to kill?
Thou hast slain of thine own will
Not only beasts but men.
“And God is wroth with thee:
If thou wilt not repent
His anger shall be sent
To smite thee terribly.
“See, all men hate thy name,
And with it mothers fright
The froward child by night:
Great are thy sin and shame.
“All true dogs thee pursue;
Thou shouldst hang high in air,
Like a thief and murderer,
Hadst thou thy lawful due.
“Yet, seeing his hands have made
Even thee, thou wicked one,
I bring no malison,
But blessing bring instead.
“And I will purchase peace
Between this folk and thee,
So love for hate shall be,
And all thy sinning cease.
“Say, wilt thou have it so?”
Thereat, far off, we saw
The beast lift up his paw
His tail a-wagging go.
Our father took the paw
Into his blessed hand,
Knelt down upon the sand
Facing the creature’s jaw.
That was a sight to see:
Agobio’s folk trooped out;
They heard not all that rout,
Neither the beast nor he.
For he was praying yet,
And on his illumined face
A shamed and loving gaze
The terrible wolf had set.
When they came through the town,
His hand that beast did stroke,
He spake unto the folk
Flocking to touch his gown.
A sweet discourse was this:
He prayed them that they make
Peace, for the Lord Christ’s sake,
With this poor wolf of His;
And told them of their sins,
How each was deadlier far
Than wolves or lions are,
Or sharks with sword-like fins.
Afterwards some came near,
Took the beast’s paw and shook,
And answered his sad look
With words of honest cheer.
Our father, ere he went,
Bade that each one should leave
Some food at morn and eve
For his poor penitent.
And so, three years or more,
The wolf came morn and even,
Yea, long forgiven and shriven,
Fed at each townsman’s door;
And grew more gray and old,
Withal so sad and mild,
Him feared no little child
Sitting in the sun’s gold.
The women, soft of heart,
Trusted him and were kind;
Men grew of equal mind;
None longer stepped apart.
The very dogs, ’twas said,
Would greet him courteously,
And pass his portion by,
Though they went on unfed.
But when three years were gone
He came no more, but died.
In a cave on the hillside;
You may count each whitening bone.
And then it came to pass
All gently of him spake,
For Francis his dear sake,
Whose Brother Wolf this was.
3. The Boy and the Wolf
by John Hookham Frere
A Little Boy was set to keep
A little flock of goats or sheep;
He thought the task too solitary,
And took a strange perverse vagary:
To call the people out of fun,
To see them leave their work and run,
He cried and screamed with all his might, —
“Wolf! wolf!” in a pretended fright.
Some people, working at a distance,
Came running in to his assistance.
They searched the fields and bushes round,
The Wolf was nowhere to be found.
The Boy, delighted with his game,
A few days after did the same,
And once again the people came.
The trick was many times repeated,
At last they found that they were cheated.
One day the Wolf appeared in sight,
The Boy was in a real fright,
He cried, “Wolf! wolf!” — the neighbors heard,
But not a single creature stirred.
“We need not go from our employ, —
‘Tis nothing but that idle boy.”
The little Boy cried out again,
“Help, help! the Wolf!” he cried in vain.
At last his master came to beat him.
He came too late, the Wolf had eat him.
This shows the bad effect of lying,
And likewise of continual crying.
If I had heard you scream and roar,
For nothing, twenty times before,
Although you might have broke your arm,
Or met with any serious harm,
Your cries could give me no alarm;
They would not make me move the faster,
Nor apprehend the least disaster;
I should be sorry when I came,
But you yourself would be to blame.
4. Great Gray Wolf
by Isaac Mclellan
Wolves range innumerous the great Northwest,
And chief of all those prowlers is the Gray;
This monster finds in various realms a home.
Now scouring in vast herds the level plains,
Finding no shelter in that grassy space;
Anon again they haunt the forest depths.
Secure in mazes of the wilderness;
Anon they haunt the soaring mountain crags,
Or o’er the treeless plateaus range at will,
Where bushy shelter is infrequent found,
And there make burrows ‘neath the clayey banks,
Or choose a lair among the open cliffs.
The White wolf seeks a Northern habitat,
While further south the gray wolves find a haunt,
While the Black wolf seeks southern Oregon,
And all areas south of Rocky Mounts.
Large, gaunt and fierce, it seems a dangerous foe.
Yet ’tis a coward, ever prompt to flee.
When strong in numbers the collected pack
Will dread encounter with an Indian cur.
And when o’ertaken they wi11 pause and snar1
And seek escape from such inferior foe.
When wolves, in droves, large animals pursue,
Such as the bison or the bulky elk,
They scatter in small flocks around the route
The quarry takes, and so pull down their game.
When a strong pack pursues a fleeing prey,
The victims yield before such strength and speed.
They constant follow herds of antelope,
Or buffaloes, browsing the vast grassy plains,
Prowling around them in their devious route.
E’en in the wintry regions of the North,
They prey insatiate on a lesser game,
Badger and fox, the prairie dog and hare,
And when with hunger stung, in wintry times
They prowl around the farmers’ homes for spoil.
Great is the sport to hunt those wolfish herds,
With blast of horn and howling cries of hounds,
And when the mounted Indian tribes pursue,
They form a circle round the fleeing pack
And to a centre drive them to their death.
So vast the numbers of these savage wolves,
So vast the hunting grounds o’er treeless plains
That in the future years the grand wolf-hunt,
Must prove the noblest pastime of the chase.
5. Fight of a Buffalo With Wolves
by James McIntyre
A buffalo, lord of the plain,
With massive neck and mighty mane,
While from his herd he slowly strays,
He on green herbage calm doth graze,
And when at last he lifts his eyes
A savage wolf he soon espies,
But scarcely deigns to turn his head
For it inspires him with no dread,
He knows the wolf is treacherous foe
But feels he soon could lay him low,
A moment more and there’s a pair
Whose savage eyes do on him glare,
But with contempt them both he scorns
Unworthy of his powerful horns:
Their numbers soon do multiply
But the whole pack he doth defy,
He could bound quickly o’er the plain
And his own herd could soon regain;
His foes they now are full a score
With lolling tongues pant for his gore,
He hears their teeth all loudly gnash
So eager his big bones to crash,
On every side they him infest,
The north, the south, the east, the west
Fierce rage doth now gleam from his eye,
Resolved to conquer or to die,
Round him they yelp and howl and growl,
He glares on them with angry scowl,
They circle closer him around,
He roars and springs with mighty bound,
And of his powers gives ample proof,
Felling them with horn and hoof,
Though some lay dead upon the plain,
Yet their attack was not in vain,
For they have tasted of his blood,
Resolved it soon shall pour a flood,
He feels that they have torn his hide,
And streams gush from each limb and side,
He rushes on them in despair
And tosses them full high in air,
But others rush on him and pull
Down to the earth that glorious bull;
On the flesh of this noble beast
Their bloody jaws they soon do feast,
Full worthy of a better fate
Far from his herd and his dear mate,
Who now do look for him in vain
His bones do whiten now the plain.
6. The Supper
by Walter De La Mare
A wolf he pricks with eyes of fire
Across the night’s o’ercrusted snows,
Seeking his prey,
He pads his way
Where Jane benighted goes,
Where Jane benighted goes.
He curdles the bleak air with ire,
Ruffling his hoary raiment through,
And lo! he sees
Beneath the trees
Where Jane’s light footsteps go,
Where Jane’s light footsteps go.
No hound peals thus in wicked joy,
He snaps his muzzle in the snows,
His five-clawed feet
Do scamper fleet
Where Jane’s bright lanthorn shows,
Where Jane’s bright lanthorn shows.
Now his greed’s green doth gaze unseen
On a pure face of wilding rose,
Her amber eyes
In fear’s surprise
Watch largely as she goes,
Watch largely as she goes.
Salt wells his hunger in his jaws,
His lust it revels to and fro,
Yet small beneath
A soft voice saith,
“Jane shall in safety go,
Jane shall in safety go.”
He lurched as if a fiery lash
Had scourged his hide, and through and through
His furious eyes
O’erscanned the skies,
But nearer dared not go,
But nearer dared not go.
He reared like wild Bucephalus,
His fangs like spears in him uprose,
Even to the town
Jane’s flitting gown
He grins on as she goes,
He grins on as she goes.
In fierce lament he howls amain,
He scampers, marvelling in his throes
What brought him there
To sup on air,
While Jane unharmèd goes,
While Jane unharmèd goes.
Short Wolf Poems
These short poetries about wolf are concise and to the point, packing a powerful punch in just a few words. They capture the essence of the wolf’s spirit and inspire us to connect with nature.
1. Long Howl
by Randall L Clifton
The wolf looks at his companion
Thinking, “I’ll be her champion.”
Dazed by her beauty and majesty
He can’t help but to howl, so loud as to shake the bowels of Hell,
Or perhaps to ring a bell
How else should he tell her what’s inside
Or maybe it’s beside?
The wolf knows not where it resides
He knows only how it feels as she unknowingly heals his broken soul
She heals with her wolf and he knows
The wolf finishes his serenading song
Thinks does the wolf, to himself,
“Now it should not be long until she knows all meanings in this bellowing song.”
2. Soulmate of a Wolf
by Randall L Clifton
To know oneself is to know ones’ soulmate
To love another is to love oneself
Here one sits, as he writes knowing only that the soul, his wolf has but one to hold above all else
The wolf knows only one love, one home
He protects this home, this love through all without thought, without shame
For the mate of ones’ soul is much more than love
The mate of ones’ soul is half of the whole
The lock to the key, edge to the blade, handle to the shield
A moment without the other half is an eternity of torture
An eternity with the whole is but a fleeting moment that one wishes will never end
So let this moment of eternal torture pass and let the fleeting moment of wholeness heaven begin as the day fades to night
3. New Moon
by Randall L Clifton
The New Moon sits in the sky, a new hope
The wolf doth cry out with his song of rejoice
“Life is such a wonderful choice!!”
Filled with hope, the wolf dances and plays
Basking in the new moon’s wonderful rays
Calming and soothing is her song
As the wolf listens, he sees nothing wrong
The moon continues to sing, letting the sound ring
Falls into a deep slumber does the wolf, waiting for the next to be sung
by John Mccafferty
The hour of the wolf calls
Cool dark sharp but calm
No moonlight howl or cry
Head down and focused frown
Pawns are pushed into place
The risks we trust to take
With good faith in calculus
These gods are among us
Energetic plight flickers
Spattered anger flouts
Dilated rage with white teeth out
To think beyond aloud
Funny how the face of a clown
can quickly change its mouth
5. The God of Chaos (Kaos the Wolf)
by Randall L Clifton
Quick to anger, quicker to hate
Leaves nothing up to fate
Fate fails time and again
So destiny did he take into his own hand
Never again will love be lost
Never again shall his heart be covered with frost
Running around for eons, not having a home
Finally a place to settle, a love to call his own
Kaos knew no love for so long
He knew that is must’ve been wrong
To not have someone by his side, bringing order to all he has wrought
He lives now, still, and cannot be bought
Kaos the Wolf, he is known to almost none
But The God of Chaos he is, as Odin named him so
Kaos remembers all, yet cannot say ‘no’
When the Allfather beckons and calls
Kaos knows he must listen, lest he causes his own fall
Chaos must be caused there is no other to do it
So Kaos raises his head and howls out remembering every bit
To his love, his mate, Kaos looks, tears in his eyes
Waiting for her to beckon and tell him they’ll never say their goodbyes
All is well as she pats his head
“Silly wolf, I’ll never leave your side,” she said.
6. Valentine’s Day
Roses are red, violets are blue
A dinner you promised, just me and you.
Reproving winds lectured me in bites
For my barely-there skirt, and lustful eyes.
Sour cream lathered that oily exterior.
The aftertaste lingered, creating a barrier
Of which soft lips could not break through
Nor embellished flowers or chocolate fondue.
With our stomachs full, with more than just food
You brought me back home with beer-stained shoes.
My mind a fog. The Lamb now waits to be skinned
For the Wolf that set the ****** trap to finally begin.
Virginal blush, tinged with her bruises all blue
A dinner you had promised, just me and you.
by Fray Narte
oh, to live with sadness, so deep — it has started spreading;
I can feel its crushing weight: a stampede.
my trampled bones have started to resemble
wildflowers as they decay
and the soil flinches at the sight
of something so pure —
something so tainted.
behold, the lamb of god
has become the big, cruel wolf;
this is what happens to delicate things
after they’re done breaking —
after they’re done rotting.
this is what happens to pure things
after the sins and sacrificial rites.
behold, the lamb of god —
has become the wolf
and one day, it will outrun the forest fog — spreading —
one day, it will outrun the howling in its chest.
one day it will outrun the ironic aching of ribs, long emptied.
oh, to be a girl and not a wolf.
to live with sadness and trampled bones.
maybe one day, I too, will outrun myself
8. Legion of Wolves
by The Gray Wolf
The time is now
Prepare to fight
We move as one
Under dead of night
We hit the ground
Without a sound
Everywhere we look
There’s evil abound
The hunt begins
We absolve your sins
Don’t take us lightly
We’re not jester’s and fools
Warriors of God
The legion of wolves
Long Wolf Poems
These long poetries about wolf take us on a journey through the wilderness, capturing the beauty and power of wolves in vivid detail.
1. Wolr Red
by Susan Adele Wiggins
Within his paw
smeared bloodied red
by a deliberately mocking thorn
guarachera strip of cloth
between the love and the life lines.
what remained of her
remained of the underthings
fluffing rows of silk
the heavy skirt had been raised
above the ankles
the creases no longer hidden in shadow,
one leg hoisted over the back,
the reigns held expertly.
As it happens, the card numbered Eight is
Strength (also Lust)
She had surely fled
She has surely flown
through the trees and away
Not on foot at-all
while the three saw her pass.
The two sisters
with that prince vulgaris looking on
Three daemon goblins watching from a distance
a smallish crashing
a scrap, sleepy and unfurled, relaxed
within the leaves that shudder
and give up the delicacy, slyly
into stubby fingers
The Woods are Laughing!
Did you notice any scent?
Did it linger between
the thumb and the ring?
the remnant of her flowers,
Petals flouncing, swirling
in odorous potentiality.
a scrap, yes
a deep seated souvenir
Can we re-fabricate the whole from this little thing, you think?
we want her.
there are things that we want to do with her.
dangerous, they lean in close, nostrils flaring slightly
searching for the ambergris or the sticky jasmine
settling instead to gaze upon
the still clutched
still a little springy
sprightly, o! the remnants of her liveliness
and ***** and yet
3: at least let us show you the stage that we’ve built
with a clean sheet for the curtain,
and some sticks.
it’s called acting.
the wine and the wafer.
hidden in the trees’ darkening
‘the mattress’ lays where
the leaves will crumple
meanwhile, he’s petulant:
– why, if you’d just get off of that high horse!
– how long are you going to resist?
– are you STILL angry?
– why won’t you just let me stick it in you?
she telegraphs her response, cough:
‘you do know that in this
(fingers pointing downward and across
as if to suggest
that the scenario
had a specific location)
You are the wolf, right?
I, the girl,
am in the forest with my basket and
I have got a
With matching hood and a single task
(with those other two *******) have decided
to bore Me with this ****?
Daresay slow Me down?
Of course I will get rid of You.
Wait, who am I talking to?
Let me also add that
there never has been any
high-stepping on my part,
nor ankle twirling,
no mandate to impress a stale balcony,
no sign of gaslit
that lay down flat
perfectly upon the straps
perfectly at the thigh,
NOT to be slid off a buttock (mine)
NOR crumpled into a dubious ball, ripped and torn
and yet I know that
that determined creature,
a hairy monster
more faithful than Argos,
to wait a lazy eight
at grannie’s cozy house
in a sickly corner
over-eager and overwrought with
and explosions of once sort or another, irrelevant to me.
What I Will admit to is
that the touch of those grubby fingers
transubstantiated at my waist
as usual from behind
always too quick to make himself a beast
to rid himself of being a man
knowing how way
leads onto way
but I doubt if I should ever come back’
2. The Angel and the Wolf
She doesn’t stroll on water
But makes a drop taste sweet,
There are no wings upon Her back
But you’ll hover off your feet.
Whenever She glides into a room
No halo on Her head,
Her presence transforms any traces of doom,
Your spirit will be fed.
With hope for all the future
What was blindfolded before,
Bursts in rays of colour
As She takes you on a tour.
All unanswered questions, hey!
“What is the meaning of life?”
She answers with a single smile,
To children, husbands, wifes.
If She had a halo
She would lock it in a chest,
Far be it from Her, She thinks,
To feel She is the best.
That modesty, those charismatic
Eyes, that shining aura,
Enough to make a dying spirit
Rise from out the corner
But who guards the Angels?
Who keeps watch?
Protecting such an important being,
It’s not a job to botch.
For though She doesn’t know it
If life’s cruelty makes Her stumble,
Then other souls who matter,
Could end up in downwards tumbles.
It isn’t fair, the pressure,
Living Her life for everyone,
And this is how the shackled Wolf,
Has burst into the sun!
Chained and tortured, the Lone Wolf
Eventually was blind to light,
He needed a purpose, a mission in life,
Else die in dark and fright.
So now, inspired by an Angel,
He has finally seen the way,
Manacled but inspired,
He grows stronger every day.
The Wolf will never be as strong
As She who breaks chains for everyone!
But as long as She can turn to him,
All that matters to him is done.
She protects the people from,
The cruel, the nasty, the foul,
And any who try to move in Her way,
Will hear the Lone Wolf’s growl.
So if you feel a glow one day,
At you the Angel may well be shining,
And running at Her heels, Her faithful servant,
Will no longer be whining.
For JC, my light in dark places
3. More Wolf Than Woman
by Shevaun Stonem
some days I am more
wolf than woman
and it’s hard to hide my fangs.
I’ll hiss and snarl and spit the blood
of those who trespass against my land.
some days I am more
wolf than woman
and it’s not that hard to understand.
I cannot be tamed or caged or chained,
I am the alpha of the pack.
some days I am more
wolf than woman
and there is no strength I lack,
but hiding and camouflaging
with the sheep
does not make my fur more black.
most days I am more
wolf than woman,
and you’ll find me bathe
underneath the moonlight.
in the slightest of mannerisms
you’ll discover, it’s not that
easy for me to hide.
hunting and guarding and marking
until the weary day turns to night.
in the way, that I tread the land
these claws covered by a pretty coat
and smiling- hah, no that’s the
predator baring her fangs to show you
how it’ll dig into your throat.
Wolf Poems for Kids
These wolf poems for children are fun and engaging, introducing children to the beauty and power of wolves. They inspire a love of nature and the outdoors, encouraging children to explore their own inner wolf spirit.
1. Sheeps & Wolves
by Kassan Jahmal
I pray to my Lord; as the prey in this crazy
world, dressed in sheep’s clothing of all
All lurking around with no good.
Shepherd guide me; I don’t always know
where to go. Staff of mercy; disciplines hurt
of the rod, but keeps me on my track to God.
Teeth marks; and ****** holes in my leg,
went chasing on greener pastures. But instead;
I was caught down on my defence.
Wolves only see red; as they have their prey out as
The prey prays not to be prey; by the longest
prayer of all the sheep’s prayers.
You bit me
Under a full moon
And I didn’t turn
I stayed human
Scars in my arms
Blood dripping from my wrists
I fell to the forest floor
3. Today I’m Gonna Make It
by Danielle Jan 202
today I’m gonna make it
getting done with the stuff I left for days or a week, reading a book once again that I excitedly flipped every page, losing a grip on a string of a blue balloon, today I’m gonna spend all of my pennies to my unrequited wish, similarly to a black hole that keeps gnawing my heart; this is what it cost.
Today I’m gonna find out why they are calling us “black swans”. I will make their blood drain, we will dance at them until their eyes glow green. Today I’m gonna make it, but not the girl who cried wolf at night.
4. Autumn Comes Reaping
by Chris Saitta
Thrums the bee waggle-dance in a haunt of Indian horsepaths,
Or the shaking leaf one second past the strike of galloping rain
/ Parsimonious lightning, thrifty in its jagged stalks
Against this night of heavy-hearted oaks /
Then the hay-fringed bale of sleep, rolled into a valley of slowed breathing,
Through parting cloud-diabolique, poison-peers the wet toadback of Autumn,
Glowing moon-gristle in the bosky wolf’s beard with its wireframe of teeth.
5. Wolf Woman
by Spicy Digits
I berated her
But she was stronger than me
I put pressure on her
But she was always magnificent
I judged her harshly
But she was always right
I tried to control her
But we both wanted freedom
I made her weep
But she made me see
I kept her locked away
But she survives
I tried to quiet her
But she sang, she danced
I asked her to take the lead
She said there’s none to take
I mistrusted her
She waited patiently
I wore my checkered suit
She wore nothing but jewels
I spoke to her timidly
And she answered eagerly
I invited her in
And we arrived.
6. Love’s Gamblet
by Rosemary Porretta
Oil and vinegar,
Sugar and spice,
Lust is ****** up,
and love is nice.
Lust can fool you,
to thinking you love,
or she/he loves you,
But be careful of the wolf
that will attack you.
Oil and vinegar,
Sugar and spice,
love is ****** up,
but also nice.
7. The Wolf Who Cried Boy
Oh werewolf with woollen wings,
Whimpering in the willows.
Thou vile voice a vice grip
Stuffed inside her pillows.
Yours is a violent cry for help
One should never have to hear.
So dare come near, just know it clear.
Your fleer; my leer. For tears, jeers and
Featherweight fears will never break weirs that
Forever fill wells deeper than the darkest hole
You gouged in the lightest soul.
Your sword; her shield. My words; wounds healed.
I’m ever bending moonlight to set it right.
Go haunt yourself through a never ending night!
A single silver bullet shimmers in her sunlight.
The same one you shot upright.
Falling fast into the broken bed you made.
Now let it embed deep in your head. Well played.
There once was a wolf who cried “boy”.
And once should have been enough.
It’s time to torment yourself instead.
Hurting her never made you tough.
8. Divine Ouroboros
A wolf in the bushes. A deer in the clearing.
I know you are looking at me
because I too am the wolf.
You know I know, because you are me in my knowing.
We are so quiet in our hiding, and yet the deer raises its head.
You sprint to me now.
Here our ever-loving, this sacred tragedy.
O beloved Ever-Creature,
Will you chase me into Godliness, or into the end of It?
I will chase you more–
My precious enemy, again and again.
How fragile the leg that snaps, how ****** the neck torn.
You slip and I catch you. I fight and we die together.
The antlers today, the doe eye tomorrow.
Forever this day, no matter the way.
We are the running, the forest, the hooves and fang.
The twig that catches my leg, the corner that traps us.
God is when I **** you.
It is your teeth in my flesh, the tear in the widened eye– my precious thing, and then we do it all again.
A wolf in the bush. A deer in the clearing. You make no sound, but I know where you are. I lift my head and see you. I know you. I know you. I have always known you.
by Leocardo Reis
In view of others,
I am of little consequence.
It is as though I am
a dandelion seed,
left to the whim of a storm,
or a bleeding lamb
encircled by a pack of
I can be torn apart easily,
flesh from bone,
soul from body,
for practically free.
The smallest cuts would easily
bleed me for all I have.
My heart is crushed by the simplest things,
just as I can be crushed
by the simplest of men!
One word, that is all I need,
for a sleepless night.
My imagination is wild,
and needlessly cruel.
In my own head,
I’ve imagined different ways that
I will be humiliated, hurt and killed!
At night, my insecurities run amok
and race through my head
with an incessant screeching,
carving into the inside of my skull
new ideas, new doubts about myself
which, by daybreak,
I learn are actually true!
Ha, it’s ******* pathetic!
They are wolves!
And I am to be slaughtered!
Almost as if it’s for show.
It happens daily.
I wonder at this point
is there any limit to my embarrassment?
Won’t someone deliver me from my own shortcomings
I wait, but all that come are
tearing away at me, once again,
for another night!
Oh, how I tire of it!
I know I am inadequate,
of little physical worth,
but must they be so brazen about it?
I wish to be alone sometimes,
but I am equally terrible company.
I am a boring person
who has earned his ridicule!
Sometimes, in retaliation,
I try to cast away the ghosts
by writing poetry.
But even I struggle to say it is worth reading!
A disgrace to the art, if I do say so myself.
But don’t get me wrong,
it is not nothing to be called a disgrace,
even terribleness must have its maestros.
Perhaps, I am one!
I have found my place then!
In the *******!
Ha. Ha. Ha.
The longevity of my existence
is seemingly at the mercy of others.
How little would it take it to
forget someone like me?
If it is wished,
I can be snuffed out,
and turned into ash,
it would be so easy,
they could do it
without even knowing.
Who will remember me then?
And what will they remember?
Someone who could be stamped into the dirt
and disintegrate, like crumbs of refuse.
Perhaps it would be more merciful
to forget me than
to be remembered as that!
When my feelings are hurt, I always retreat.
And where do I retreat?
Of course, it is here,
where I can trade shame
where I can pretend that
I am above it all
because I write a little bit
of **** prose,
some garbage that equates to
nothing more than
You sometimes have to laugh at yourself.
But one day,
I will be better.
The wolves will still
feed upon me.
But I will be better.
10. In the Wolf’s Den
by Beckie D
you will never respect me
you do not know how to
i threw respect out the window
along with my dignity
along with my decency
the night that i left my prince charming
to spend a night
being the ***** in the wolf’s den
you will never respect me
so i cannot respect you
you were never more than a monumental mistake
you were never my friend
you were never my friend
11. I Miss You—And You Don’t Even Know
by Raven Feels
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don’t hide it—we miss them:|
me being a runaway flying in the black hinges
soaring in the twinkling skies
I crave you as a hungry wolf that knows no boarders of freedom
in there in the shady street
as I dive into my vulnerability you sense my need
you sense my desperation
its like you read my locked lines
among the flowers of the highs
in the publicity of tamed crimes
you have me
running on rage
screaming on blades
the cake comes and you appear none
hating the crowds
the bargaining weight of these suicidal sounds
where are you???
nowhere to be found
leave me in yells when the time ends and dwells
this is a first in a hell
do you intend to choke me to death again???
it is me who you pressed undamned on your wided chest
and carried it all away in a mild stance
when no one dares
to a slightest bare of your cans or cares
don’t forget me still not lying
still breathe for your touch
and your essence on that spot
just tell me where
and my heart will voluntarily beware
to be awaiting a hold of torments in the bliss of fair
when you mindlessly gear
affording to disappear
a night changes its shades into a million gleams
you seem to draw on my warm sheers
12. “Wsax” Fm
by Seranaea Jones
last night I met a wolf
in a dream where
I was in a car with
the door decidedly open
listening to a radio that
some soft jazz
on a distant station.
I look and— there He was !!
right next to me sitting
just inches away.
He said (woof) “Hello” with a
mild but manly voice, this fellow
was well over two hundred lbs.
I said “hello” back as He sniffed
at the side of my leg briefly
and then looked at me with
friendly eyes and an expression
which seemed –to me– like
a gentle smile.
He then said (woof) “I just wanted
you to pet me for a minute–
hopefully you won’t mind”
so I did..
perhaps it was the scent of what i sprayed
on as I made my way out, or maybe
how the boots surrounded my
thighs a couple of inches
above my knees as the
wind blew across
my skirt like a
and then a voice on
the radio shouted,
“You should be Parked !!”
13. The Red Wolf of Isolation
isolation is a redly glowing wolf
it is too close to me, get away
how can I believe in myself?
the night swallows self-confidence
I am waiting for an angel sent by
the tall and wise heralds of my fate
they are riding the train of future
I don’t know how to hop on, no clue
eden’s sounds are distracting me
but in her eyes i can see where my train
is supposed to stop and to arrive
ancient existences are flooding her pupil
they stem from a place called nirvana
it is the deep core of a human being’s soul
light suffuses their shape, goldly shining
they fight against the demons of our world
and as the years passing by, they become
our nostalgic memories and our sentiment
i want to be there for eden, protecting her
the red wolf will not come between us
Lone Wolf Poems
These poems celebrate the strength and independence of the lone wolf, inspiring us to embrace our own individuality and to stand strong in the face of adversity.
1. The Lone Wolf
by Lone Wolf
My night is my day, and my day is my night.
I roam the forest at dusk, when the moon glows and illuminates the darkness of the sky.
I walk alone, in this life, and every night.
As I continue my journey without the pack I have abandoned.
I am a predator, I am a wolf.
Created by God, armed and equipped with claws and fangs.
These are my tools of survival, my weapons of destruction.
I hunt, but not for pleasure or for game, but to survive.
At moments the hunter becomes the hunted.
My tools of survival, become merciless weapons to kill.
Only the strong survive, here in the forest.
Endless labyrinth of trees and wild.
And yet, I am at home. I am at peace.
Only my curiosity has a longing to find my purpose.
Am I here simply to live, to mate, to die?
Is this the true cycle of mother nature?
I refuse, I refuse that reality of my existence.
I will continue, I will go on, I must go on.
As the stars are my audience, and my only companion is the force that pulls me forward.
I am the lone wolf!
2. The Wind Chaser
by Lone Wolf
I want the earth in my hand,
I need a house in aso.
For the great sea serpents and land
They all shall come to bow,
I wish i could ride in night,
And build a house in cloud.
My wealth shall reach the sky in height
Holier than thou in crowd
Bow the gods in dark,
Stab your soul with sharp
Cunning soul and mine touch and spark
An incessant cry i heard
In the fort night bright i see
The unmercy angel with smile and frank
I wail and beg forgive
But no mercy cry incessant he sang
My opulent, my inheritance has gone
Me avarus ignorance of knowledge chase the wind from west to south.
3. Lone Wolf
by Shubhankar Mathur
A wolf in the jungle
Leaving my pack far behind,
I was howling for you.
4. The Wolf Roams
A lone wolf roams the woods,
A powerful creature in solitude,
Roaming free with the wind and trees,
He stalks the night with grace and ease.
His eyes gleam in the moonlight,
His fur like a cloak of night,
His howls pierce the still night air,
The forest is his domain, he does not care.
He is majestic and strong,
Fearless and wild all along,
He wanders through the woods,
Searching for food and goods.
He is the king of the night,
His power and strength a mighty sight,
He is a symbol of freedom and pride,
This wolf will never be tamed, he will never hide.
The Raven and the Wolf Poems
These poems explore the relationship between the wolf and the raven, two powerful symbols of the wild. They inspire us to connect with nature and embrace the wildness within us.
1. The Wolf and The Raven
Two strangers lost in darkness
A shadow soars above
Another crouches below
Eyes meet, untrustworthy
Of the other looking on
A silent promise is made
Fluttering between gazes that glisten
Under a hazy moon
The raven perches, in wait
The wolf bounds away
She searches for what is lost
To bring to him
But soon loses herself in the thicket
The night is a deceiving mistress
For all that is unique
Becomes the same
A howl rises up to the heavens
To no response, the wolf weeps
The raven stretches his sore wings
Eyes darting over the towering shadows
He thinks himself a fool
To fall for such a simple trick
Now he settles once more, in silence
A leaf flutters to the ground
Warmth was stirring in in her cold heart
Determined still, her paws scrape the earth
The voice of the wolf rises over the land
Throat hoarse, time was escaping
Alas, until the raven is found
She refuses to rest
The shape of a wolf appears
Through the gnarled branches
For the raven’s trust has run dry
He could only stare
Her ragged breath, matted silver fur
She had returned, a promise fulfilled
The raven nods, the wolf lays beneath
This bond now unbreakable
Of once strangers turned friends
The wolf carries the raven
As his wings grow tired
The raven guides the wolf
As her paws ache
Night fades to day, a repeated cycle
Their bond remains solid as the earth itself
Two strangers lost in darkness
Have found light
2. The Wolf and the Raven
Two hearts beat as one
Souls entwined cannot be undone.
She stays by his side through the night and the day.
For no-one can steal this love away.
The Wolf, who once stood proud and alone
Had no-one to call his very own.
But when he found the Raven fair
He knew that she would always be there.
Through the forest they would roam
Making this dark kingdom their home.
The Raven would always be loyal to her king
As he was the one who made her heart sing.
The Wolf he loved that Raven so
and vowed he would never let her go.
He keeps her happy and never sad
for eternity was all they ever had.
3. A Wolf and A Raven
by James Darwin Smith II
A Wolf and a Raven
Sharing so much knowledge
One from the higher perspective
Another grounded in full acceptance
Two souls unified
One training to survive
While the other
Tries flying to new heights
Trying to work together in harmony
My soul is of both
This Wolf trying to teach this Raven aggression
This raven trying to teach this wolf patience and wisdom
All the while striving to balance both
In the aspect of a better life ahead
There is no joy in over-killing thoughts
Just have to be as one with my wolf and raven
Trying to find purpose in life
As I dig deep within my wolf and my raven
I shall be as one with it all
And then the exploration of everything
Will begin like it should have always have begun
With wisdom and a positive aggression
This Raven is where my wolf resides
In my own mental haven
Peace within mind
And aggression shall come with knowledge
I strive to be as one with my own raven and wolf
My own Wolf and my raven
This soul of both will always be as one
As long as I keep on searching
This soul is always on the hunt
Thanks to both my own wolf
And my Raven
This hybrid soul will always search for completion
Taking turns within this journey towards peace
Forever and beyond even my own current exploration
4. Raven and the Wolf Always Together Eternally Apart
A raven beauty lurks in an endless banquet
of shifting, ashen foggy moonlit night.
Burst of stimulating woven blanket;
lovers sail onto the last laced breath flight.
Rhythmic chants echo veiled in sound and light.
The black ominous raven flies by day.
Her lover, white wolf, walks by shadowed night
under the drunken moon; two lovers lay.
Stolen moment of time, hunger in delight.
The howl’s that calls of invite at twilight.
Always joined; forever apart” to roam,
carrying their souls through eternity.
Their pleas ignored, for freedom in their home;
denied an earthly life of divinity
and their love stretched into infinity.
The Moon and the Wolf Poems
These poems capture the mystical and spiritual connection between wolves and the moon. They inspire us to embrace our own inner wolf spirit and to connect with the natural world around us.
1. The Wolf and The Moon
by Laura Hughes
She was like the moon,
all alone, shining bright.
Her beauty would make you swoon,
whenever you saw her light.
Then the wolf came along,
with stagger in his stride.
With him, she would belong,
as he would howl with pride.
She was no longer alone,
as he would stay close by.
For her beauty always shown,
and it always made him sigh.
whenever day turned to night.
He would forsake her never,
for he’d die without her light…
2. The Wolf and the Moon
This is a tale, countless ages told
Among the Wolf, to cub from old.
It is a story of true love,
Between Wolf below, and Moon above.
The Wolf and Moon were One they say,
Lovers, Friends, to this very day.
The sky at night their hunting grounds,
Their depth of love, it knew no bounds.
The Wolf one night, in foolish pride,
Chased a star that tried to hide.
They fell to Earth, Wolfs’ heart grew sore,
The Moon still flew; the Wolf no more.
The Wolf at night calls to His Mate,
All alone, cursing Fate.
And to this day the Wolf will cry,
A mournful Howl to the night sky.
The faithful Moon shines loving light,
To call the Wolf back to their flight.
To light his way back to her side,
Apart, due to His foolish pride.
The Wolves tell of a night to come,
When Wolf returns to Moon, his One.
This is the story all cubs know,
Of Moon above, and Wolf below.
But the tale isn’t done you see,
she’s Moon; the Wolf is me
My Moon has shone her tender light,
This Wolf on wings of love took flight.
Moon shone her light to guide Wolf Home
No longer will I walk alone.
Hand in hand, side by side we fly,
To hunt once more ‘cross the night sky.
Our path, it leads us to our fate
So grateful to my true soul mate.
So cubs must learn a new story,
she’s Moon, and Wolf is me.
The two are One, forever more,
True love the future holds in store.
We talk of dreams, and secrets shared,
In bed at night, our souls are bared.
You wonder how this story ends,
One more verse will tell all my friends
The Wolf…..it mates for life you see,
she’s Moon; the Wolf is me.
3. The Wolf and The Moon, A True Love Story
by Mikey Pooler
It’s dark out, A cold winter night.
Awfully lonely even for me.
A howl echoes throughout the silence, my heart drops.
A howl that entered through one ear and echoed loud for my soul to hear.
Would it be sinister to say I smiled knowing I wasn’t the only one here?
A smile becomes a sarcastic laugh of desperation, being ironic I joined with crying howls to the moon.
Before I could finish the wolf howls again.
I learned something that night, I solved the answer to love.
Find your moon, find someone who brings light to your darkness.
Find someone who, when you feel like a lone wolf with a numb soul; Will be your moon to howl to.
We’d be a beautiful love song.
I learned hope is when a lone wolf sings to a moon, as if it’d reach.
A Favorite melody howled the lone wolf so heavenly.
A rhythme being merely, an echo of his heartbeat.
Love is feeling that heartbeat and hearing a melody.
Then singing all the words otherwise too scared to speak.
4. The Wolf and The Moon
You are my wolf
As I’m your moon,
You howl at night
So I shine upon you.
Have you ever wondered about us?
How our miseries blend?
I scar upon my weary soul
To heal your withered veins.
I am the lonely moon,
And you’re the lonely wolf,
Lonely is what makes us lovely
Let us love our fragile souls.
I’m the silent watcher
To all of your thoughts and prays.
I am the quiet whisperer,
Yes, I hear you call out to me everyday.
So tonight, my love
Let us write our stories to the stars.
Let me shine upon you,
And let our love guide us so far.
5. The Wolf and The Moon
by Ezekiel Valdez
Why is the lone Wolf attracted to the Moon?
Howling towards it as if it’s singing it a tune
By day the Wolf is focused with senses that are true
But at night he can’t move being distracted by his view
What does he see in it, Can it be that he’s confused?
Even though it never changes the wolf is loyal to the moon
Can it be the Moon’s beauty that has this Wolf consumed
That he has to howl complements of this beauty towards the moon
This is not hard to believe but yet something safe to assume
For it’s the very same way your beauty has attracted me to you
With my lone heart howling every night wanting to be with you
6. The Wolf and The Moon
by Tolly Rebeka
The day is past and the Moon now rises from beneath the mountain to greet the stars.
The Moon smiles on the sleeping towns, their drone wound down. However, in the
forest, Life is still flowing full speed. The Owl fly’s his “day” begun, “Who, Halloo
Moon! ” “Hello to you Owl.” The Moon spins on his way. He makes many more
greetings to the animals of the forest. He starts to grow weary, and makes ready to bed
down for the day when the Wolf came to visit and talk as the animals and Moon talk,
“My good friend Wolf! How are you?” Wolf jumps playfully to and fro, “I am glad
Wolf that it has been good for you! It is almost time for the Sun to come up now, I
have to go home.” The Wolf whimpered and followed the Moon. When the Moon was
almost home he turned to the Wolf and asked, “Why do you follow me?” the Wolf
jumped and landed in the Moons hands and curled up with a tremendous sigh. “No
Wolf you cannot come with me, not yet, but now that I know you love me we will be
together in spirit, and someday you will be able to come with me to my home to live.”
For years, the Wolf ran with the Moon at night, and then they would part ways at
dawn. One day while the sun was shining brightly the Wolf, now old to earthly eyes,
faded to a wisp of mist from mortal sight, on the night of the New Moon. You could
see, that night, a cloud in his shape running before the Moon, and as the Moon grew
fuller you could see on the face of the Moon a shape like that old Wolf, you could see a
promise kept. The Moon and Wolf were friends, one entity forever.
7. The Moon and The Wolf
by Josh Alfred
The moon is white
Like wolf’s teeth.
The moon is crescent
Like wolf’s smile.
The moon’s reflection is sharp
Like wolf’s razor claws.
The moon’s halo is blurry
Like white warm fur.
Wolf poems inspire us to connect with nature and embrace the wildness within us.
They remind us of the power and beauty of the natural world and inspire us to live our lives with courage and determination.
Such a powerful symbol, right?
We shared multiple kinds of poems for wolves that we loved, with you, now it’s your turn to tell us which one did you like the most?
Let us know!