In a land where the moon shines so bright,
wolves roam free, a magical sight,
with howls that echo through forests so deep,
where secrets of old, the wild creatures keep.
The trees whisper tales of a mystical time,
where legends are born, and the stars align.
The wolves sing songs that come from their heart,
their voices entwined, a symphony of art.
Through moonlit meadows, the wolves they will run,
beneath a sky adorned with stars and the sun.
Their paws touch the earth with a gentle grace,
as they dance through the night at a mystical pace.
The wind carries their voices, a harmonious sound,
as they sing of the wonders that they have found.
The forest listens, enchanted and still,
to the wolves’ serenade, a magical thrill.
The wolves’ eyes gleam with a wisdom so old,
as they share ancient stories that have yet to be told.
They speak of the spirits that dwell in the trees,
and the magical creatures that live in the breeze.
Their songs paint pictures of a mystical land,
where dreams take flight, and hopes expand.
The wolves’ howls echo through valleys so wide,
as they guide lost souls with a magical stride.
In this land where the moon is always bright,
the wolves’ howls fill the air with delight.
Their voices unite in a chorus so grand,
as they sing of the wonders of this magical land.
So let the wolves’ songs fill your heart with glee,
and let their magic set your spirit free.
For in this land of enchantment and grace,
the wolves’ howls will forever leave a trace.
Poems for Father’s Day
The Devil’s dance of retribution
