The lioness and cubs remained
As close as close could be,
For now with nothing to be gained
Amid the scenery...
One cub with tiny legs stretched out,
The other near to sleep,
While Mother looking all about,
Her vigil still to keep...
But soon those scamps would run and play
And pounce and bite and chew,
Rehearsing hunting every day
And muscle-building, too...
Yet not for long beneath that sun
That wandered far above,
The heat affecting everyone,
Sometimes more than enough...
The days would melt to months then years,
Their youths to end in time,
Then gone would be their childhood fears
When each one stood sublime...
No matter what each day presents,
The Mother charts their course,
From courage to come confidence,
From whimpers to come roars...
Denis Martindale, copyright August 2015.
Poem based on a magnificent wildlife painting,
by artist Stephen Gayford nb Google-search
gayfordgallery and 'Stephen Gayford poetry'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem