He's a cunning beast of nature
A denizen of the night
Who would want to tame him
This majestic awesome sight.
Trotting through a forest
so silent you can't hear'
All you glimpse are flashing eyes
All you smell is fear.
You hold your breath and hide
As he goes gliding by,
You feel your hackles rising when you hear his eerie cry.
He's primevil and he's clever
He's as old as time itself,
the things they say about him are of cruelty and stealth.
But he's loyal and he's faithful
A spirit wild and free.
Forever a canine misunderstood
But no man's lapdog he.
Beryl Harrison
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wolf-7/
