Carnivorous? Herbivore? Liquid digestion?
A puzzle-some thought left for many to question
In front of their noses a banquet of food
For a furry-feast caper all bolshy and rude
They celebrate, love and hate, even mate, too
Those friends of the forest and not of the zoo
All huddled together and fighting for space
With cream cakes and attitude smeared on their face
Over and over the squeaks and the squalls
Get so agitated from nothing at all
A mountain of bodies all twisted and coiled
Such pathetic behaviour, when heavily roiled
Wilderness calling them, what do they care?
When the Queen of the Woods throws such swanky affairs
It's no real fulfillment coterie provides
When instinct gate crashes those cravings inside
Calm predate, lie in wait, nature kicks in
Clawing out eyeballs and tearing at skin
Bloody raw, bones to gnaw, catch and then kill
Prey! No party animal matches that thrill
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11 comments:
Ouch! That hurt!
yowch- no chance of just going in for a wee smackrel....very fun read!
Have a great week!
This gave me the heebie geebies :-)
Nature, ever red in tooth and claw. Good read.
Don't have to go to the woods for this, I fear..."Party animals", all!! Very smart...
A great tumble of words!
Love those squeaks and squalls...
Your rolling rhymes belie a dark read! WOnderful.
Survival of the fittest rules
Weasels don't share the cream cake very well, do they?
Great response to the prompt.
You drag the ew and the ugh right out of me!
=)
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