The Lion


When years don’t seem to count …

Poem — The Lion …

The Lion roars,
Drawing her nearer to him -
She hears his every note,
Enticed by his alluring sound
She dances to his song …
Long beyond not caring
His long hair is greying!

The Lion roars,
Pressing her ever closer -
Touching his lips to hers,
He sings on and on
Moving in time to the rhythm …
His wild mane flaring -
Flowing in the sultry air!

The Lion roars on,
His voice now straining -
Singing only to her,
Shouting each of his notes
From the depth of his soul …
His fire burns higher
Roaring on and on!

The Lion’s roar soars,
His body trembles
Swaying now with her -
He bellows into the night 
Gifting her his song …
Assured, he croons another tune 
In the moon light.

M. Vaughn Duck
1 Aout 2017, © copyright,
all rights reserved. 
(Idea from J. fiasson / when years don’t count/k)
Flyingonward@hotmail.com

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