The Bloodhound
Beneath the ground there comes a sound,
Stirring the bloodhound from his mound,
From the stream the sound builds steam,
Curling the blood of the bloodhound’s dreams,
Into the sky the sound soon flies,
Scowling, jowling, growling, howling,
As from below, the sound soon grows,
Drawing the bloodhound from his doze,
From behind the door in the floor,
The sound runs raw to every core,
As from the gust pours sweeping dust,
Stirring the good from the woodland’s trust,
Beyond the door the sound seesaws,
Gnawing, clawing, pawing, roaring,
As from beneath the mossy heath,
The noise builds on with no relief,
Word is spread to every bed,
To bring the elite to Hog Head steep,
And so the elders meet and greet,
To discuss the sound of the howling beat,
The wise old owl says he knows the howl,
He lowered his brow and began with ‘now’,
He’s a beast I tell, excuse my yell,
But he really does-not mean well,
And ‘til the height of the night,
He told tales of spite and bite and fright and plight,
While the rest began to stress,
Of what would come from this vile guest,
A beast portrayed, the decision’s made,
To trade all words for a thousand blades,
So off they went on a vicious scent,
Intent on destruction without resent,
While just ahead, the bloodhound treads,
With thoughts of benevolence instead of dread,
His well taught nose guides his toes,
Until he knows, he’s all so close,
From just below the sound soon bows,
Freezing the bloodhound in the shadows,
With a gentle draw of his paw,
The door emerges from the floor,
The sound unkind soon turns to whines,
As from the pine stirs a moan confined,
With all his might the bloodhound fights,
To free the fright from inside,
With one big scratch against the hatch,
The latch is broken in a flash,
From the trap comes a yap,
As a fox leaps to the bloodhound’s lap,
And so they stayed and barked and played,
As the fox displayed his joy to be saved,
But through the thick came the clique,
Naming the hound the vicious culprit,
The bloodhound pleaded quite defeated,
As the fox retreated from the heated,
He’s the hunter’s kind, the badger whined,
Caught behind the woodland line,
They all complied the hound should die,
For the nightlong cry and relentless lie,
In one fowl swoop they advanced one group,
Tying a loop around the brute,
The hound fought back as the group attacked,
Stacking themselves upon his back,
And in one last show of pure bravado,
The fox delivered the final blow.