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~~~~ Wolf Poems ~~~~

Links to other wolf poems.

Flight of the Midnight Wolf

Miracles In the Snow

Wolf City

Poems found on this page.

Wolf Pack
by Yvette Yvonne-1998
Wolf-First Wild Dog
by Charles W. Russel
The Grey Wolf
by Stacy Smith-1998
The Wolf-King's Lament
by Franciso De Borja Roca-1997
The Wolf
by James William McWhorter-1996
The Divine wolf
by Adonis (Ali Ahmen Said)-1961

Wolf Pack
by Yvette Yvonne - 1998

Darkness breaks,
Moon awakes,
Night now brings the stars it makes.

Moon beams fall,
Light up all,
From silvery woods there comes a call.

Grayish blur,
Shaggy fur,
Food is this night creatures lure.

Brown deer,
Very near,
It is brought down full of fear.

Deadly bite,
Very tight,
Every wolf will feast tonight.


WOLF-First Wild Dog
by Charles W. Russell - 1997

Howling high on a mountain top,
Sending shivers up my spine,
Stands a lonely sentinel
Calling to others of his kind.

The last of a vanishing breed.
His crime -- the need to eat.
His mate has a liter waiting,
For Dad to bring home some meat.

Ranchers say he's a threat
To the little ones in their herd.
But to hunt him to extinction
Is meaningless and absurd.

A way has to be found for all
God's creatures to coexist.
To bring harmony and justice
To Wolves, and Gorillas in the mist.

So, before you condemn him,
Or shoot him -- even worse
Remember the Wolf, like Indians
Inhabited this land first.


The Gray Wolf
by Stacy Smith - 1998

Gray wolves are such beautiful creatures and are so misunderstood.
So many people hate them and would kill them if they could.

They are actually afraid of people and just want to be left alone.
They are presently endangered species and their future is unknown.

Most of the animals they hunt are injured or weak.
Deer and elk are what many of them seek.

Sometimes they howl to locate their pack.
They find each other when another howls back.

Their fur can make them withstand the harshest of weather.
They do not like to live alone and tend to stay together.

They try to avoid humans as much as they possibly can.
They mean no harm and are endangered because of man.

They live in the wild and they deserve to run free.
People need to understand them better and just let them be.


The Wolf-King's Lament
by Francisco de Borja Roca - 1999

An old, grey-maned King am I,
Barking my gruff orders under Orion's sky
And, beneath my throne of dew and stone
My people, all sinew and bone,
Flashing fangs and eyes of smold'ring coals,
Haunched on brawny hinds they do attend me.

Ah, my soul is gnarled, like gnarled the tree
I nightly choose for blessed sleep;
Aye, the Hunt has tired me-
'Tis only Time's matter
Till a brash whelp's challenge
Brings me 'neath the turf of my shady fief.

Yet I was strong once, if still it matters;
Aye, my quarters taut, my shadow lean and gaunt
Yet brimm'd with power- unlike now, so much more tame,
My ribs a bony rigging
For my ragg餬 scar-creased frame.

They have called me Heather-Sceptered, Oak-Garbed,
Star-Crowned Ruler of the Hunt.

Yet look ye now... where is this night-caped regnant?
Nothing but a weak, starving bag
Holding the bones of former days am I,
Howling former glories to the Moon and stars-
At times I think the Moon howls back,
The white-skinned, tight-snouted bitch all mock'ry and jest
Upon my old age, as I curl upon my back for wanted rest
Under the shade of my gnarled oak-tree.

The time is come- can you not hear the howling?

The Hunt is called again...

this time without me.


by James William McWhorter - 1996


In vicious packs these creatures roam From their mouths secrete forth spit and foam.

Their black eyes glitter as they hunt thier prey.
After a night of thier killing sport they seek a warm place to lay.

When one of their many die Their spiritual wings unfold and fly.

To the mysterious full moon they howl.
Which injures but illuminates they're nightly prowl.

Only from the essence of nature do these wolves ever partake.
Which leads to question the human's hate.
Who abuse all worldly things and waste everything they take.


The Divine wolf
by Adonis (Ali Ahmed Said) - 1961

The forenoon is burn-faced and wandering
And I am the death of the moon

Below my countenance the bell of the night has broken
And I am the new divine wolf.


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