The Hunter Into their world of sun and sand,
With spear and shield he goes alone,
Where sponges bloom on coral strands
And whistling winds make whispered moan.

He walks the fields where bluebells sway
And feels the life that stalks his prey;
The quiet watch, the tender sigh,
That nature bends her breath to sigh.

He knows the trees that point the way,
That speak of choices yet to make,
Where shadows hold what light can say,
And in their leaves, faint echoes quake.

• A D Hope

• A D Hope