At five-hundred pounds and nine feet in length,
From his nose to the tip of his tail,
The King of all Beasts, with his long hairy mane
In safety can walk any trail.
He stands with his pride, he has so need to hide,
He hasn't a fear or a care,
When his mate makes her kill, and he's sure that she will,
He is certain that he'll get his share.
The cubs in his pride all respect him.
His temper to them is well known.
Can't tantalise him like their mother,
This he quite plainly has shown.
The roar that he makes for attention,
Causes panic for these close at hand,
Animals flee for their safety,
For the lion is king of the land. By Jean Brown
Mossfield Road
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