Elephant death poems and poems about death for Elephant. Read and share these heartfelt Elephant death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Elephant Poems.
death, friendship, life,
i bejewell dying elephants,
scrape the mire from tired pillar feet
wash away the gray
reveal the soul satin pink...again
i rub their tired tusks
scrub away the stained grooves
shade great wild eyes
from scavenger sun
i have no use for the strong at its peak
or haughty in its prime,
it's tiresome sparring with Mr. Jones
because he has more time than i
to kiss the hedges and keep his trim in line
yes, i'm a good down friend
but those days are at an end
can only bring you down
or at best break even
and i need to get up
before somebody shades my eyes from death...
i bejewell dying elephants
absence, abuse, angst, bereavement,
“I think I have an elephant in my eye.”
“You think you have an elephant in your eye?”
“Yes! I think I have an elephant in my eye!”
“Here, let me see.”
“Okay! Just move your hands and let me look.”
“I see it.”
“Can you get it?”
“Just stay still while I try.”
“Don’t hurt me.”
“Do you have it?”
“Not yet, stay still.”
“There you go.”
“I got it.”
“You got it?”
Yes, I got it!”
“What was it?”
“Just a tear.”
“Whew, it felt like an elephant.”
cry, dream, grief, sorrow,
I heard the bang bang sound
and i knew mama you were no more
just like many of our kind
hunted and slaughtered like worthless creatures
and when your value is taken
you are left to rot and your kid to suffer
Who's fault is it mama
that we carry a treasure they so much desire?
that we must continue to die
so that they can get it?
and when one of us falls
their thirst for us becomes even more?
Mama they are now coming for me
to take me through the same route as you
though i run as much as i can
i know they will eventually get at me
and though against my wish
i will soon join you mama
but perhaps together we can find a way
to rescue our remaining few.
Lurking in the foliage
Or shooting from the air,
Ivory poachers seek their prey
To naturalists’ despair.
Elephants, both young and old,
Are gunned down every year,
For reasons that their missing tusks
Make eminently clear.
An easy source of revenue,
The tusks fulfill the need
For criminals to profit from
Some tycoon’s grisly greed.
Tens of thousands die this way,
Their bodies left to rot.
Our voices should be raised in wrath
But sadly, they are not.
The elephant – so noble
And astonishing and wise –
Deserves some human help to stop
This onslaught of demise.
After years of trudging, trampling and trumpeting,
the mighty rouge heads for his destiny. All his
ancestors await his arrival, his final resting
ground hidden from others who wish to rob his family
of their jewels they’ve worked so hard to hide.
Instilled in him is the map leading to his family.
Soon he’ll be free, he won’t need to hide from
poachers, safari men or lions, and he’ll die proud.