I hold the mouth of a lion,
Unafraid of his teeth..
When he whimpers back into submission,
I will be his queen
Spring has sprung and flowers bloom,
The year's little infinity has begun,
When summer memories permanently mark our hearts..
Under the warmth of the sun
And the lion's mouth I will still pry open,
As I learn about who I am,
Aye, maybe the sun is a lion,
His Rays, his golden mane,
And I am just his lamb.