Wildlife Rehabilitation Center


Carol's Poetry Page#5




  Updated ForMarch 2005

Father Fox
     By Carol Hardee (12/03)

A slate colored day with fingers of ice swirled in from the gray northland,
And throughout that time, like a sentinel still did the gray fox father stand.
Outside the den, he steadfastly stood in the pillows of drifting snow
Knowing full well that his mate and his kits were snug in their den far below.Father Fox

As temperatures plunged, the air held sounds of the wind in its full force gale,
But the gray fox stayed as a granite slab that juts through the mountainous trail.
Golden eyes stayed closed to the stabbing ice as it pounded against him there.
Yet complaining not, he stood fast this ground to protect his family’s lair.

As hard as the day was to all of those creatures surviving its tortuous will,
The twilight beckoned in wicked delight for even more snow and cold still.
Brave father fox would never desert this task that was his all alone;
Leaning into the wind with needles of pain, he stood as an unmoving stone.

Dawn brought sparkling crystal forms to dazzle the mind and the eye
While the sun glazed over the ice bound crust under a silent sky.
Gray mother fox and her kits emerged single file from their den far below
To mourn for the gallant father fox, dead still in the frozen snow.
Ode To Porky
     By  Carol Hardee (12/03)

You showed up one day at the edge of the woods             Porky the pig
With some scrapes from fierce fight with a dog.
And sporting such a face (only a mother could love),
You were Porky, the wild, black hog.

Although we were always quiet and calm,
You never really let us come near,
As days went past, we came to know you so well
Though from us there was nothing to fear.

As you grew day by day, we pondered the thought
If anything, what should we do?
For we only had your best interest in mind
Your health and your happiness, too.

Oh, Christmastime brought not a season of cheer,
For we found you in such a sad way.
So badly injured, you could not even stand,
And we brought you some water and hay.

Then you were gone, as your life slipped past
Leaving us with a vacant space.
How I wish I could walk in the woods at dusk
To see Porky once more in his place.
 
The Eye of the Storm       
    By Carol Hardee (12/03)

We care for the injured and orphaned wild ones placed into our arms night and day,
And it matters not how drained we’ve become, we shall never send any away.
We open our door and our hearts to them all, the weak, the ill and forlorn;
And with heads unbowed and steady hands, we walk into the eye of the storm.

Fearless we push through unending hours while our bodies begin to grow weak.
A life or death struggle day upon day is no task for those timid or meek.
When our dreaded foe, exhaustion, creeps in, we shake it away as we must,
For to fail means a life will be ever lost, dissolving perpetual trust.

There is no heart known holding greater love than what we feel for them all,
And we tend to the fiercest, defiantly bold as well as those tiny and small.
So we rejoice with  triumphs of battles hard fought and for only a few must we mourn
As we stride with purpose, commitment, resolve, and walk into the eye of the storm.

Puppy Dog Heaven
         By Carol Hardee

Oh, there must be a puppy dog heaven
Where all doggie spirits can rest,
A beautiful place for each beautiful face
Which all must agree would be best.
I imagine a scene of contentment
With all dogs in a typical pose,
Four legs in the air without any care
From the tip of the tail to the nose.
No injuries and no diseases
Are allowed through the puppy dog gate,
And as each one steps through, his body is new
With playtime a perpetual state.
No sadness or suffering is there,
And dogs who were chained now run free;
And none would be old, or so I am told,
In this puppy dog kingdom, you see.
I would feel pure fulfillment to be there
With dogs through the years I have known,
Some from my long ago childhood
And others, my friends when quite grown.
I can see the love glow on their faces
While giving kisses and tail wags for free.
Oh, it may be a puppy dog heaven,
But it would surely be heaven for me.


Bluebirds of my Youth
     By Carol Hardee

In the long ago mists of my memories, in a time when I was a child,
I remember watching the bluebirds flying free through clear air in the wild.
Every spring as a family we awaited the arrival of a beautiful sight,
And in they would soar from their winter home to our hearts and eyes, pure delight.
We observed their every day living, building nests, raising young, singing song
As they dined on insects and berries throughout the warm summers so long;
And we never knew of the peril, which endangered their lives then each day,
For that most deadly pesticide, DDT, was dispensed as a dust and as spray.
Then one spring, how well I remember, as I watched for the bluebirds with care
And the feeling of deep disappointment when they never came home to me there.
The years passed by, oh, so many; fifty and more came and went.
I lived hundreds of miles from the home I once knew, and felt that my life had been spent.
As I drove along home one past springtime in late afternoon from the coast,
I swerved off the road, came to a quick stop-there a bluebird was perched on a post.
I then sat in a fog of amazement, and the feeling of joy that I knew
Brought tears to my eyes as I stayed mesmerized by this dazzling creature of blue.
I had given up hope years before then that any bluebirds since had survived,
But to wait fifty years of my lifetime seems as nothing to know they’re alive.
And now each spring as I drive on that certain same road; it’s the truth,
I can still see them perched on the wires above, elusive bluebirds of my youth.

Little Dogs Five
     By Carol Hardee

Bounding from the couches, sliding down the hall
Barking like a wolf pack whenever I call.
All tails a-wagging, joyfully alive;
How did it happen, I have little dogs five?

Thought I had a housefull with little dogs four,
I’ll bring no more home to my husband I swore.
But then I heard the story of a little dog stray,
Going to the pound in just one more day.

And so I went to see him, Scruffy, little one,
Held him in my arms, and so that deal was done.
Joined in with Rascal, Max, and Shiloh, too;
And Laddie boy, the cutie, who has just turned two.

Snuggle up at bedtime, ice cream treats for all,
Wrestling in the leaf pile, playing fetch the ball,
Running fast to greet me, whenever I arrive,
How I do adore them, my little dogs five.

Little Block Houses
   by Carol Hardee

Little block houses built in a row,
I see little block houses where ever I go.
Little block houses on each other stacked,
So many block houses, back to back,
Little plain houses, all built the same
Where neighbors don’t learn each other’s names,
Little square houses so clean and neat,
All the same color, street after street,
All look alike, same shape and size,
Little block houses are not for my eyes.
Little block houses without a tree-
Little block houses are not for me.


My Inspiration
by Carol Hardee

I opened my hands for a moment in time
And you flew in that instant, returned to the wild.
As I watched you pump your now powerful wings,
I marvelled once more at this nature’s free child.
You swirlled through the whipped cream clouds on high
While earthbound I remained to admire your show.
Oh, graceful bird flying as one with the winds,
How well you inspired me yet far below.
My heart was so heavy that week from life’s trials
From self pitying  doubts and fears and pain;
But without any effort, you lifted  me to the sky
Renewed once more to strive strongly again.
So, I bid you farewell and a long life lived well
Floating far above me forever more,
And when I am lowered into the deepest despair,
I need only glance to the skies and soar.


The Kindest Heart (a poem for my mother, who
raises all  of the baby rats and mice at the Center)
     By Carol Hardee

The kindest heart is burdened with heaviest of strife
For to worry so for multitudes does weigh down a caring life.
Only the gentlest of all souls can mend the tiny one,
And smile because a life made whole means that the job was done.
Glamor comes to those aligned with the mighty predator
While only few aspire to save a wee mouse at the door.
And so it is for those who work without the glory sought
Whom I shall hold in high esteem with the lessons they have taught.


The kindest heart bleeds not for self, but for the suffering one
And struggles on in dark of night to end the task begun.
When other voices are not there as self doubt beckons home,
The duty still  remains for one, a brave soul stands alone.
Ah, how glitter grabs the eyes with dazzle and the dare
Of mighty tiger in a cage, huge elephant, fierce bear.
My hero truly is the one who seeks not glory bold,
But quietly into the dawn has smallest charge to hold.


Judge thee not the humble toad whose insect toll is grave.
By eating a mosquito, that same toad your life may save.
A mosquito may carry malaria, West Nile, diseases more
Should you ever ponder to yourself, what good is a toad for?
And those whose love for creatures thus, whether monstrous or small,
Are truly the compassionate ones, role models for us all.
So let us save the lives in need, as each one has its place.
In this vast world, there’s room for all, each species, creed, or race.

The lowliest of creatures held in disreguard by man
May be the most important  link, though we don’t understand.
Was not wonderous penicillin made but from a mold of bread ?
So a reverence for all life on earth should be our creed, instead.
And in this web of life are linked all species meek or grand;
It is our duty to ourselves at last to understand.
To save the forests, oceans deep, the rocky mountain spire,
And all the creatures on this earth, should be what we desire.
Alice & Fawn

 

One Heart
   by Carol Hardee

“I cannot save the world.” quotes an adage of yore,
But I can save the orphaned,  raccoon at my door.
We can really do nothing to stem the huge tide
Of those tragic victims, the scores who have died.
Though we cannot end worldwide hunger and pain,
Each day, I shall do what I can to maintain.
A catbird struck down by a car now can fly;
And a tiny marsh bunny no longer will cry.
We cannot stop all cruelty, injustice, and wrong;
But we can live our lives to be kind and stand strong.
We cannot save all forests from ax or the blade
Nor end the pollutants and poisons they’ve made.
But today, orphaned otter pup I shall feed,
Giving attention and all he may need,
 I am able to mend broken wing of a dove,
And wherever I go, giving comfort and love.
We cannot end the sorrows that abound everywhere
But I can provide for the ones in my care.
And as each day unfolds, there is much in our reach:
For the deer, the gray fox, or the gull on the beach.
And so, we shall not  be engulfed by the woe
But rather will fight in those battles we know.
Though the list may be endless of things we can’t right,
We can with our hearts and our souls stay this fight.
Then together, as one, the same foe shall we face,
And we can make this world a more beautiful place.
So let us continue to each save a small part
And combining our efforts, we shall beat as one heart.


Springtime Senses
    by Carol Hardee

See the willow tips turning red in stark sunlight
And the slight hint of jade on sweet meadows at last.
Then, look as the stream overflows from its rock banks
While the crackling frost underfoot has now passed.
All antlered crowns of the whitetails have fallen,
Strewn under the trees for some rodent’s delight,
And to find her prey, stalks the bobcat in slippers,
No more than a whisper in the silent moonlight.
Hear the plaintive call of the great horned owl nesting
She cries to her mate to hunt well for their food,
And she feels the warm eggs lying safely beneath her
For the morning’s dawning will hatch her new brood.
Ah, take in the scent of the sweet spruce and cedar.
That evergreen fragrance will linger all day.
While screaming on high, the defiant bald eagles
Embrace your free soul as they lift you away.
So welcome the spring in its awakening glory.
Farewell to the palettes of ice and glazed snow.
We now savor the sights, the sounds and the perfumes
As nature delights us wherever we go.

 
A Kangaroo Tale
       By Carol Hardee (02/05) 


This story is true and a tale worth the telling
Of an orphaned kangaroo found  by a kind man.
It all came about in that place down under,
Australian continent, that far-away land.

The  hungry, dear baby was left all alone
In her dead mother’s pouch on a roadbed of clay.
But the gentle man found her and then he took pity
As he rescued the poor, starving joey that day.

Since the kangaroo babe had no real mother’s pouch,
She was given a substitute warm woolen sack,
Then she was fed with a bottle and marsupial  nipple-
Raised up in Australia’s wild kingdom, “outback”.

As the months passed by with good caring and love,
The ‘roo became stronger each day and quite grown.
And she grazed on the plants and green grasses at will,
With her friend watching over her there at his home.

Then late one night, to a pounding, the man woke.
From a deep slumber, “What is that?”, the man cried.
He ran to the front door where his kangaroo buddy
Had kicked the door down with her strength from outside.

The home was ablaze, and smoke filled the air thickly,
But the man had escaped certain harm and death, too.
Now together they live to this day,  I am told,
The lucky Australian and his brave kangaroo.

Postscript:
In Australia, one man was saved by the orphaned kangaroo that he had raised when it kicked repeatedly on his front door from outside the house.  As he slept, his house was ablaze, and he would have perished.
In another case, the hand raised kangaroo was inside the house when a fire broke out.  The kangaroo pounded on a bedroom door with its hind feet, woke the family, and all escaped alive.
In yet one more “kangaroo hero” story from down under, a one-eyed ‘roo named Lulu, orphaned and raised by a family saved the man, Len Richards, one day when he had a heart attack.  Lulu was with Len at the time that he fell to the ground and she then hopped to the house where she led the man’s wife, son, and daughter all the way to where he had fallen.  Because Mr. Richards received help quickly, he survived, and Lulu was credited with having saved his life. (check out these stories on the internet!)

Winter Whitetails
          by Carol Hardee (02/05) 

     Oh, one came in with injuries from collision with a car.
The next day came another one from miles away so far.
A small, frail doe, we soon could tell, sustained a broken bone,
But over time, she mended well in this, her new found home.
The second one, a huge, strong buck with antlers spreading wide,
We could not help, we could not change, the injuries inside;
And such is chance, one lives, one dies, though each received our care.
It is not always in our hands to make the difference there.
The liquid eyes which stare us down, defiant to the end,
Are those that burn undying scars on souls that never mend.
Open Spaces
       by Carol Hardee (04/05) new for June

Oh, give me not the high rise with the concrete all around
Nor busy, bustling city streets where blaring noise abounds.
I cannot abide the landscapes with only buildings, shops, and mall
Without wild-flowered meadows and forests stately tall.
How can the throngs survive a life confined day after day,
Or do they scream internally and wish to hide away?
There are those who gaze from penthouse high to state they have a view,
But have they ever marveled at a field of glistening dew,
Or leaned against the punishing gale swept from a mountain peak,
Or gazed upon the sunrise from across a desert bleak?
I pity those whose lives are spent locked deep behind a wall
While I lie down beneath the stars lulled by coyote’s call.
Oh, give me open spaces or the clustered tree-lined dell
Where I hear eagles screaming; that’s the place where I live well.





Releasing the Crow
     by Carol Hardee (9/05)


Oh, fly away, fly away, fly high away free,
Over farm lands and meadows, above every tree.
Do not look back once you leave from my hand,
And you won’t see the tears that fall where I stand.

You are beautiful, vibrant, and strong do you feel
As you soar high above me, but to ground I must kneel.
How I wish that the joy in your heart were in mine,
But I cannot rejoice with you now at this time.

For you came to me naked and cold, nearly dead,
The smallest of small in my palm lay your head.
When your nest had fallen, your egg broke apart
And though not quite ready, you then had your start.

With bated breath, some warmth I then gave
And so carefully, fluids, little life so to save.
As the deepest despairs turned to hope one by one,
Against greatest odds so you tried and you won.

As you leave me earthbound, with no wings so to fly,
With  trembling hand waving a reluctant good bye,
 I smile at the irony as you quickly depart;
My work was done well, but it cost me my heart.

 


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