An eloquent place among the stars

Holds gold and luster, and ear and eye,

Green beasties- those the dark sponsors-
Trudge ever so tenderly day and night.

Oh, what a cipher it might be- to
Sight a wonder as these beastie folk.
Among bluegrass and few tall pines
Reside the species of a furry cloak.

Their lips all form lengthed smiles,
As they gather round like little gremlin,
All fixated on the center and the capture,
That thing is that to a likening.

Crooked joints and jostled flesh
Is the being on which they feast,
One truck, two branches, and ten digits-
 familiar is the remain to the least.

Beasties chomp, beasties smile,
Bladed fangs plow and prod the fallen
The grass now unites the sun,
Darkened and a tarred crimson

Oh, what a cipher it might be- to
Sight a wonder as those beastie folk,
Among grass and feeble pines
Feasting on sour dust and smoke.