Deer death poems and poems about death for Deer. Read and share these heartfelt Deer death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Deer Poems.
death, nature, sad, sky, giggle,
Chasing dazzled eyes of dew
Forests tickling greenness at my toes
Pebbles giggle lullabies in blue
Thirst is penetrating soul...
Echoed steps worries the skies
Violins long for their trees
Thunder without lightning shoots
Wounded sunset bleeds on heart
Chased and dazzled, color-blinded
Grass turns sky and sky is dirty...
No more thirst, a deaf encounter
Hunters of my soul...and I...
Harold Hunt sr
I met a deer
I met a deer a big brown deer.
We met in the dark.
Not as friends just a run of the mill meeting.
I had to stop but it was too late
The meeting was over and the deer was dead.
I guess a car at 65 would not make a good friend of a deer.
So stay out of my way. I like deer meat.
animals, death, nature
Deer young wild free runs
Open meadow grass flowers..
Road impact lights out
A deer gallops through the forest, no fear in its mind. It finds a path in the open much different than others, and must stop and admire it. This naive little doe does not even know cars belong on this road. Along comes a car and the deer fears for its life, but cannot even bare to move. The doe or the car, those are the choices of who is going to lose. In the last instant the car runs off the lane. Even though there are factors unharmed, nothing will ever be the same.
animal, autumn, beautiful, creation, death, earth, nature,
Deer running through the forest,
As graceful as can be,
Her white tail in the air,
Saying "I know you're there",
As majestic as this beast could be,
It will be in great agony,
For the motorized beast has caught it.
nature, sad, sympathy,
Is he down?
I don' know; you wait 'ere,
While I go see/ Come 'ere.
Gut 'im now?
Not jus' yet; check his pulse.
No, high'r up. Yeah, right there.
Now, Pa, how?
I'll show yeh.
And the thunder of God's wrath
Echoed through the wood.
R. e. taylor
Walking through the woods
Silently across the snow
Leaving a row of tracks
The man hides in a tree
Looking down into the forest
His eyes catch a faint motion
Down below a deer looks up
Their eyes meet for a second
A gun is leveled
A trigger is pulled
A bullet flies into the air
No more deer
animal, death of a friend,
Alas my friend, what do I see,
When thou, beheaded, are brought to me?
I see there is but not a chance
For you and me to have a dance
And let ourselves be merry and gay
I guess we’ll meet another day.
If only thou had chanced to see
Your body should have been with me
Not in the fields with hopes to prance
Amongst young men who cannot dance.
And so my sweet let’s not delay
I must move on to other prey.