Thursday, January 10, 2013



To have heard an elephant’s trumpeting call,

The grey beast’s thunderous cry. 

To have seen the arc beneath water’s fall,

Cascading from heavens high.


To have felt the lion’s great tawny mane,

Groomed by tooth and paw.

To have tasted the nectar’d sugar cane, 

Freshly cut and raw. 


Venture across vast African plains,

Great jungles of the Amazon.

Through scorching sun and torrential rains,

For a sense that must be won.


A sense hard-earned, hard-fought and yet,

You’ll never know a match  

For my lady’s lips, and I’ll gladly bet

A yearly pocketed catch. 


To have heard such song and soothing voice,

As could lull the grey beast’s rage.

To have seen smiles beaming with rejoice,

That dimmed the fall’s hued age. 


To have felt the petals of a kiss,

Masking lion’s power and sway.

To have tasted a love, so sweet as this,

And lived in paradise each day. 


Such are her lips: so soft, so sweet,

So filled with joy and mirth.

They hide adventures and beauties untold,

More than any upon this earth. 


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