In shadowed woods where ancient secrets sleep,
The German Hound moves silent, swift, and sure.
Its nose upon the earth, a path to keep,
A hunter’s heart both patient and mature.
Through whispering leaves and mossy, winding trails,
It weaves a tale of bloodlines sharp and old,
A scent, a cry, the echo never fails—
The forest knows the story it has told.
With steady gait and eyes that pierce the gloom,
It guards the chase until the dawn’s first light,
A noble soul that turns the hunt to bloom,
And claims the wild beneath the fading night.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: March 2nd, 2026 00:22
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about the breed of dog known as the German Hound, or Deutsche Bracke.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: Man's Best Friend.
Offline)
Comments2
A poem of tribute to a noble breed of dog. Nicely written it places the hound in his surroundings for which he was bred. Nicely done
Matthew, this carries both elegance and restraint. The whispering leaves, the old bloodlines, the piercing gaze…each image builds a portrait of instinct refined over time. By the time we reach “And claims the wild beneath the fading night.” it feels earned and dignified. Strong, classical work. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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