by Duncan Jones
A proper lady had arrived and joined the khaki band
For she, just like her father, had a want to see the land
And know things wild and dangerous, and put herself to test
And when they had protested? She would not let it rest!
First morning on safari, with glee she said, “What fun!”
And stood in with the riflemen to learn of how it’s done
So while at at camp before they set to hunt the dangerous kings
They told her of their tracking, tricks, and traps and other things
And then the men stood ready, their boots and straps were taught
They stood there smiling wryly, but the lady, she did not
“I’ve come upon a change of mind, I think this rather low
No honor, bravery, courage shall be found among this show
You’ll sit downwind quite camouflaged, so hidden in the grass
But where’s the sport in knowing what will surely come to pass?
Your tools and numbers many! How dare you walk with pride!
This is not a show of strength! No, the stories all have lied!
They say the beast is great yet with deceit you’ll take him down!
Well, if you care to play this way then I care not to be around!”
She was standing just before them, but they frozen, stared in awe
For behind the lady, dignified … the biggest cat they ever saw
“Forgive me,” said the lion, “But I overheard your speech
What a beautiful delivery, and your words have quite the reach
You’ve a hunter’s sense about you, yes! To know that I was there
And you’re perfectly correct … I should not take you unaware
So I promise to give warning before next time we meet …”
And with that the lion vanished … into the grass on silent feet