 |
|
Lion
By Leonard Clarke
|
But you are here instead,
Better, perhaps, be dead
Than locked in this dark den;
Forgive us, lion, then,
Who did not ever choose,
Our circuses and zoos.
|
Poor prisoner in a cage,
I understand your rage
And why you loudly roar
Walking that stoney floor.
Your forest eyes are sad
As you pad
A few yards up and down,
A king without a crown.
Up and down all day.
A wild beast for display,
Or lying in the heat
With , smells and meat.
Remembering how you chased
Your jungle , and raced,
upon their backs
Along the grassy tracks.
|
|
Highlighted words descriptions in the context of this poem:
|
|
|
Tiredly. |
|
|
Sawdust is the shavings that fall off wood as it is cut. |
| Prey is the food that an animal would seek out and feed on. For
example the eagle's prey might be a mouse. |
| Jumping |
|
|
