Simon Clark

Simon Clark Aug 2012

Look at my stripes of black and white,
I vanish and glow in the comfort of night,
With my mane like a Mohawk shimmering free,
I can’t be domesticated – I run with the trees.

They say I’m “so pretty” but never take note,
That the ills of mankind are solved in my coat,
Deepest black in harmony with purest white,
Catching the glare of the suns bright light.

Look at my stripes of black and white,
I vanish and glow in the shadows of night,
With my mane like a Mohawk shimmering wild,
Teach the lesson of colour to every man, woman and child.

written in 2009

Simon Clark Aug 2012

The Volcano

A great, imposing figure,
Casting a shadow over the land,
As it reaches to the heavenly sky,
And its rumbles are felt like the rhythm of a band,
Its angry colours dancing like petals in the wind,
Deep orange and flaming red,
Black fire valleys giving predatory heat,
People stand in awe or tremble in their beds,
Devastation is caused and the sky is clouded,
As the rivers of fear flow nearer, so near,
See the birds fly high and away from the ominous glow,
As Mother Nature apologises and sheds a silent tear.

written in 2009

Simon Clark Aug 2012

The Chimpanzee

Our closest living relatives,
This ape is big and strong,
Long arms to gently sing or carry,
Walks on upright or on fours,
Its expressive face pierces my core.

written in 2009

Simon Clark Aug 2012

The Snow Leopard

Against the snow smudging the landscape,
Grey thick fur and spots of black,
Stocky build and small, round ears to keep it warm,
Against the backdrop of a delicate snow storm,
Quiet creature, no ability to roar,
The sweetest of faces I ever saw.

written in 2009

Simon Clark Aug 2012

The Lion

They call him the King of the Cats,
It’s easy to see why,
He roams with graceful dignity,
And has that look of focus in his eye.

They call him the King of Cats,
With his mane soft and long,
With his pride of lionesses,
He knows just exactly where he belongs.

They call him the King of Cats,
The plains are his homeland,
He fears the human intrusion,
Standing in the sun; looking proud and grand.

written in 2009

Simon Clark Aug 2012

The Leopard

I’m the smallest of the four big cats,
Not many of us left,
They destroy our land and hunt us down,
All to build their useless towns,
I can travel at 36 miles per hour,
I’ll consume all that I hunt and catch with my power,
I don’t have spots like my Cheetah friend,
But rosettes of blackness and live 21 years from start to end.

written in 2009

Simon Clark Aug 2012

The Cheetah

Other cats can climb trees,
And stand high on branch catching the breeze,
But I make the wind rush,
So fast that the ground I barely brush,
Camouflaged in black spots,
I hide in the bush far from their shots,
I can’t roar but I growl,
I chirp, I stutter, I purr and yowl,
Then I run like a train,
And back to my home; safety again.

written in 2009