The lion lingered as dawn edged,
Relaxed and resting still,
With both his front paws now outstretched
Atop the sloping hill.
Just basking in the warm sunshine
That turned the night away,
Almost as if he must recline
Before he faced the day.
A gentle breeze arrived on time,
Just as it had before,
So he remained there in his prime
While others stared in awe.
This spot was his and his alone,
For which he once fought hard,
To him, it seemed as if his throne
And there he stayed on guard.
Just like Mankind, once war begins,
You either fight or flee,
Yet now he thought himself a prince
For one and all to see.
He knew one day he wouldn't win,
Yet now he earned his prize,
Until another would begin
To cut him down to size.
Denis Martindale, for the 29th of January 2025.
The wildlife poem is about the magnificent painting
of an alpha male lion by UK artist Stephen Gayford.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem