A pride of lions
stands happily
in Africa

The patriarch having mastered
politics of survival

His roar shakes the very earth

He sends his lioness to hunt
She will return

With prey
The pride will eat
Cubs will play

What is left
of thomson's gazelle
returns to the earth

Lions cannot purr

but they can nip their cub
on the ear

They wash their golden fur
with long pink tongues
and on such a day
will often recline

And of course
My good fellow
upon occasion enjoy
the occasional snifter

Eyebrows, perhaps