A little nose as wet as snow, two tiny paws with very outstretched claws,
A small face with a nuzzling mouth that gnaws.
The wolf cub pranced and plodded through the harsh terrain,
The cold slicing at his skin and pulling him down as if it were chains.
He winced in pain at the loss of his heart,
From the excruciating wound of his friend's depart.
He looked all over for his one true friend,
But instead found the ice's very end.
Feeling deserted he trudged back to his den, not noticing the glittering tracks,
While narrowly missing the ice's cracks.
The sky was brightly washed with colours,
But the trees were striped umbrellas; standing superior like scholars.
But what was that? A sniffle, a snuffle, a cry in joy?
To his great surprise laying in his den a baby wolf cub boy.
He pranced towards the den, looking forward to playing with his new brother; leaping with joy,
At his new found toy.
The little wolf cub was never lonely again…
by Keira Cockburn (14)
Competition - The Poetry Trials
Copyright remains with the author.