Hounds Of Hell

HOUNDS OF HELL ?

I bolted and ran as fast as I could,

Down yellow meadow and through fetid wood,

Leapt clutching hedgerow and tinkling rills,

Passing many farm yards, and ogre-armed mills,

With a heart pressed to bursting, and pounding in ears,

Gulping air into lungs which screeches and sears,

The race was on; the prize was my life,

Would the hunters win, would I feel his knife?

Perhaps for my sins I would soon pay,

Those hounds from Hades neared me, I heard them bay,

One huntsman cried out a loud view-haloo,

A shadowy lead horseman came into view,

My brain gave out a scared silent scream,

Was this all a reality, or some nightmarish dream?

I saw the forelegs come down of the first sire,

Realizing only then that they were cloven and shrouded in fire.

by Don Passmore ?