Forgotton Song

Dawn B Davies-McIninch

Bristol, United Kingdom

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Artist's Description

5205 veiws 14/3/2013
A Baying Wolf, is a sad and haunting sound you dont hear anymore, to me it seems as though they knew long ago it would come to this pass, hence their howling started. A rare sound indeed.
Wolves are an endangered species and have been hunted for centuries and nearly extinct, hopefull through careful conservation these beautiful beasts will be around forever and everyone can hear their special song. A pastel picture, I try to do art with heART. This image is my most popular, viewed 3061,594 comments, 135 favoritings, as of 7/11/2010 this is just amazing.
Puppy,Dog,canine e-book
Art With Heart e-book
Poems from my Heart e-book
my book on Amazon
Dawn’s website

For other items see my Zazzle site under DawnMcininch

I an honored by such a beautifully writtenPeom By Dawnsky2 ( laura redmond), please check out lauras magical gallery.

Forgotton Song

I watch her from a distance
There she sits, upon the hill
Silhouetted against the dying sun.
Whatever happened to their existence?
Whoever caused their blood to spill?
And now, what is done is done.

On the rise her head lifts
The breeze takes the howl adrift
As she cries, for the life of her pack.
The mournful sound of loss and grief
Is carried upon rustling leaves.
For what is done, is done
And there’s no going back.

For a moment, in the Golden haze
She sees me from where I stand
And from the depths of my heart I feel her pain.
With pride she holds my gaze.
Her Forgotten song goes unheard to some.
But I hear her all the same.

I close my eyes.
Her words are soft and wise.
One single tear adorns my cheek,
As she finds the words she wants to speak,
She tells me the story of the Forgotten Song.

With that, she appears before me
No longer is she upon the hill I see.
I reach down to touch her,
She is not real
But I feel the warmth and life in her fur.

She allowed me this moment of insight
Before she fled back to the night.
And suddenly,
Under my fingers was no longer the softness of her fur
But just the gentle spirit of her
And of the Forgotten Song.
For what is done, is done.

Many thanks to Laura for this beautifully written poem

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