Like A Lion With Rabies
Golden mane in morning sun,
Silent strength, a kingdom won.
Eyes that watch the shifting plain,
Paws that tread where few remain.
Roar that rolls across the land,
Power held in gentle hand.
Majesty in every stride,
In the lion, pride and guide.
Beneath acacia’s dappled shade,
He rests where light and shadow fade.
Whiskers twitch at distant sound,
Alert to movements all around.
Sunset paints the sky with fire,
He rises, driven by desire.
Through tall grass and evening hush,
He moves with grace, a silent rush.
Night unfolds its velvet shroud,
Stars above, a glittering crowd.
The lion’s journey has begun,
Until the rising of the sun.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (4)
Magical Marie, loved it, and such beautiful rhyme.
This poem shows a Lion's pride of himself and his environment he abounds. Good job.
Nice 👍👍
A beautifully crafted ode to strength, grace, and the wild spirit within. exceptional writing, good luck.