The king is on the prowl
It doesn't walk, but crawl
Ordinary prey is not in its mind,
Its hunts only its own kind.
It can grow up to fifteen feet,
Swallows its prey whole and neat
Like a lion hunting wild buffalo and striped zebra
The king hunts rat snakes and speckled cobra.
The king is very reclusive and shy,
But when threatened can stand up and
Look at you, eye to eye,
What a spectacle to watch, o' my
You have to see the king atleast once, before you die
7/5/06 rokwd CR V.Aarella
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem