The Exmoor Emperor stag

Thru yon misty, murky valleys one early Autumnal morn, as the low lying sun shone over the golden ripened corn..I stopped on my stroll and sat on a dry stone wall.. I listened as I looked and I heard an eerie call

Whistling wails from a wandering deer was a reverberating response sounding crystal clear.. there on a distant hillock in my bird’d-eye view I espied an Exmoor Emperor stag as he strutted on the grassy dew..he stood as he raised his almighty face with his cold chilly breath from his breathing space

Bellowing grunts growled thru the glen echoing sounds of mournful, military men..as they lay on a bloody battlefield battered and bruised crying out in sheer agony bewildered and confused.. but this was not the lament of wounded men, it was an amorous red deer stag in the glen

He had stalked his prize for a couple of days thinking only of his needs as a red deer does graze..so he bellows like a bull ending with two or three coughs, as the red deer he desires stands feeding from the troughs.. oblivion to his romances she is totally unaware to his advances in his courtship with his sweatening hair.. so reluctantly and eventually he moves away to stalk out another red deer on the following day