Poems about lions


№ 1206174

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amp,  cowboys,  dallas,  detroit,  gt,  lions.

Author: NFL2015PlayoffsLive
Date: 03/04/2020

№ 1206122

Roars & Whimpers // Lions & Mice

I tell people that there are two kinds of days.

There will be days where you wake before the sun and roar out into the untouched day, pawing at the ground with a fierce conviction to take your day as you like it. These days, your very footsteps will shake the ground beneath you while your enemies run haphazardly, tripping over their own feet in order to avoid your fearsome self.

There will be days where your ears twitch at the slightest suggestion of confrontation and conflict, and you scurry about your day through the shadows. These days, your frantic heart can't take much of anything, and the vastness of the faraway horizon makes your limbs shudder and quake.

When your day falls into the former category, remember that even as you strut around with your lion-heart, there are timid mice who move hurriedly about your feet. Remember to watch your steps and mind your roars.

When your day is one of the latter, remember that lions aren't necessarily monsters, and know that their claws can be sheathed and their velveted paws can also comfort. They know nothing of soft steps and whispers.

Find comfort in the cacophony of roars and in the solemn silence of tail-twitches.

amp,  lions,  mice,  roars,  whimpers.

Author: Harsh
Date: 03/04/2020

№ 1203241

To The Lions Den (senryu)

To the lions den:
Hope no dust gets in my eye
Before I'm eaten.

den,  lions,  senryu.

Author: jinjahman
Date: 31/03/2020

№ 1188683

Big Bang, Bang Big (Lions Eyes)

It's interesting how a physical scar on ones body when healed becomes the most sensitive skin. I see the metaphysical form of ones self as quite literally the physical form of ones body. when you've got as many scars as I do, your choice between Being or Not Being becomes more drastic. there is no medium. there is no fence to try balancing on. so you either become completely numb, or... your body becomes pure fire, flames reaching out in all directions, Heaven, Hell and to all the deja vu's which immediately woke your spirit up. your scars then simply become realized as nothing more than your Souls very existence. those things you cling onto, they are understood as what it means for one to say, "I choose, to Be". so I've learned to wear my scars proudly, as I believe them to be rips and tears within the fabric between what is physical and what is metaphysical... they've been torn open, by my will alone. those who were once seen as murderers of my free will, then become forgotten within the fires from a place where I do not feel pain... where nothing but the urge to feel and fill all with and within soul exists. there is no need for a shield, or a weapon. only a simple deep look into an others eyes and a silent hello... don't gotta let 'em know... they know... like the lions prey knows it has become food once it catches the glare of the lions eyes, peering through straight into their skull, from only four body lengths away... and when you're layin in bed with a beautifully scarred lover... that deep look into the eyes, ignites you both, skin and bones melt away and expose two souls feeling, seeing, smelling, tasting and hearing every last tip of the eternally expanding universes grip, and your infinite connection within it... pretty much... how I would imagine the Big Bang to feel like if I was the Bang itself, and my lover, that massive black space, just waiting to be filled, to form and create... She is what made the Bang, Big.

bang,  big,  eyes,  lions.

Author: Lupo De Inimicus
Date: 18/03/2020

№ 1174646

The Lions At English Bay

Night hovers upon day in clouds ominous.
My city of rain is all silver and gold.
Reflections catch and mystify -
Bounce back upon the city's castles of glass.
But it doesn't capture the mountains.
The mountains are sleekly hugging the city,
Like black lions ready to leap-
To protect this jeweled treasure...
My city. My city.

Once, for a time I had to live far away.
My life waned and I stopped looking up.
There were no beautiful mountains and castles
Where I had to live.
I shriveled like a leaf in autumn
My heart was broken

Somehow I found my way home.
My city cradled me and nursed me
Set me on my feet again.
At sunset I'll go to the castles
And show my face to the mountains.

bay,  english,  lions.

Author: Deborah Birch
Date: 05/03/2020

№ 1170164

The Lions Gate

I hear a voice from the distance calling to me deep
It is like the speaking of the shepherd
I am like a lamb
And in the mind of the sheep
There is no thinking of it,
But it hears and wanders on to the right place it knows
Settling there i find myself in the heart of thee
Oh ye sweet hunter that spoke to me so delicatly in the night shine

The echo's of you
Like wine stained cups
And ratted window drapes
The story of the eloquent recital in me
You sung it right
Twisted like the dew over perfectly formed flowers in the fields
How i wished you had seen the truth
But my heart lacked thee
It dances
But to no tune

The sea roared to you there
Like the lion did in your dreams
The beautiful clouds
Billowed to the adventure you seek
That sailed away from you
Keeping you moving always
Like a balloon left to the winds
Yet so free

Thine eyes meet me in the sunlight morn there
Your hand graces my face briefly
And i say good bye
And i am gone
I felt gone from you there after
But i also felt your eyes watching my ever step away from you
As if each stoke of my journey now
Broke a another crack across your heart

Here now i stand wishing to be free
Free from the deserted place that welcomes no one
Yet is everyone
The sea is in the sky
Like the bitter winter snow
And the lion has gone to find eternity
Can there be any other way for this?
Like the clock ticks
And the moon phases
But in the sky i have watched so long
I have seen the spiral move over every idea and plan
Stars ascending across
The Lions Gate
A movement makes a slightly different turning and i see you there again.

gate,  lions.

Author: Ella May Sophia
Date: 01/03/2020

№ 1139527

Of Lions and Tigers: Part 4 - Of Lions and Tigers

Sense the tiger
Louder and louder
Screaming and screaming
Pouncing apon the tree
Loudly screaming
So gleefully

Tree isn't sure
The tiger is right
Snake still had
The hardest bite
If only it were true
If only it were right
That the fur of the lion
Would jump back with fright

The tree set about
Telling his tale
Of lions and tigers
And the wind's harsh gale
Jamming and painting
Fresh air burning high
Power in his eyes

Signs are showing
Which way he's going
But he's not sure
If this door
Is true
Or if it is
Quite simply put
A wolf

Wolves are so quiet
In the clouds
But the mist of that height
Cleverly shrouds
The wolf's true
With the snakes new

Wolf pounces high
And swallows the snake
Quickly and violently
The ground starts to shake
The tree can't believe
He's looking at her
The lion standing there
With a new coat of fur

Tiger bounce over
Tiger please leave
Don't disturb the peace
Of the lions and the trees
The moon now realise
The tale, oh so quaint
The stars now realise
It's time now to paint

lions,  tigers.

Author: Joey McNamara
Date: 03/02/2020

№ 1127808

Tulio, king of the lions, thomas o'mally of the stairway.

I would very much like
To write a poem about my cat
But he never holds still
And his oddities
Could never be expressed
I'm not even kidding

king,  lions,  stairway,  thomas.

Author: Redshift
Date: 23/01/2020