In the Serengeti of my heart,
in a high and craggy tree,
my lion sits, in splend'rous pride,
waiting just for me.
His gaze is far.
He has lived there in my dreams
his whole life long.
But a dream-lion is patient;
he loves the beauty of my song.
"Lion, lion, lion,"
I sing, as the twilight
fades away,
and my lion smiles,
for now he waits
forever, less one day.
This is beautiful, Sherry. I like the idea of the dream lion being patient and loving the beauty of your song.
ReplyDeletejust lion around :)
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