FB lions

King of the Beasts

Last night I went
On an African Safari
And we rode a jeep
Deep into the Savannah
Water bottles in hand
Sweat dripping freely
Down our backs
In the searing heat
The secretary birds flying
High up in the hazy sky
Directly above us
Just as we came across
A pride of lions
Basking in the grass
The King of the Beasts
Roaring his warning cry
As we carefully passed by
His lazy demeanor
Belying his confidence
And making him seem
Deceptively harmless
Laying almost inert
With his eyes half closed
The tranquil disguise
Of a fearsome predator
Most keenly observant
And fully capable
Of tremendous carnage
Eager to rip the flesh
Off our bones
If he so desired
His virility palpable
And dangerously exciting
His potential
For sudden ferocity
Seriously frightening me
For I was well aware
Of his strength and speed
And his propensity
For a sudden
And unprovoked attack
His harem of females enslaved
In dutiful subservience
And obediently available
For his services
All too experienced
With his violent outbursts
His power over them
Stealthily enforced
Behind the calm
Outward appearance
Of a sociopath