A drop of rain
parts the fur of a captive tiger
it reminds him of the jungle that he has never seen
but there is a poster he can look at
vaguely he plans a holiday
two weeks in the sun
then he heads indoors to his food bowl
and watches the downpour
through the window

orange and black stripes
bulge on the fat belly of
the well fed tiger

tiger scent with
rustle of dry leaves
on the path   a flower

Powering whisker's tense, the unfurled orange;
teethed with nature's rosy armament.

Brother Tiger sniffs. burning nose
  whispers of passion
  with breaths of love.

More than two million years under human life
And she knows more than you, a white milliner
roses bloom
rose is a dove.

Brother Tiger gazes off into the East
Rose smiling, rose laughing,
Roses are searching for proud preys

Heaving breaths
dynamic, catlike stealth.

    Heartbeat’s thunder
****** shadows hide.

She sends him a fairy-white rosebud: 
“Hey Love, let’s off to search again for spring…"
"come home safe, Brother Tiger: Don't be feared"

Chant and roar along please
A kiss of desire on the lips.

the straightest path
to understanding if
its real love is to
offer up power

and while you
sit there
tiger in lambs clothing,

watch, watch, watch

for although you
can weather all storms
and battles, hunters
and terrain on your solo

your choice of comrade
is that of wisdom
not love, for quickly
can a beast change
its tune when
offered freedom with
your heart.

It glides through the blades
And runs through the glade
The master of forest
And that of masquerade.

Regal and arcane
Slender grace, untamed
Of spring legs, of might roar
Of majesty is its saffron face.

As it comes near, as it goes away
Dancing through the verdant trees
Illusion, tricking, sneaky peeking
Spine-chilling are its traits.

Elusive and shy,
With mystical stripes,
Lord of the mountains,
The legendary feline.

Ever-deceiving,
Always fleeing,
Into the dark,
Hidden wild.

My brother and I explored a ravine
in our younger years. A wooded
labyrinth where the auburn
mist of fallen leaves
covered the floor
like a Burmese
tiger pit.

My brother
and I discovered
a lake, which became
a creek, which became
a swamp. I must've found
something exciting, because
I began sprinting homeward in a
juvenile fervor. Penetrating the
leafy shroud with my eager
feet. Unaware of traps
set subtly for those
tramping  through
the wilderness.

A nail,
I stepped
on a nail in my
recklessness. My
tennis shoe armor proved
futile against the steel weaponry.
Completely exposing my vulnerable
sole, the spiked interloper sank
its lone fang into me. The
pain shot through my
foot until ambulatory
abilities all but
vanished.

I didn't watch
where I was stepping
and landed on an inadvertent
weapon.
I should've
known the pollution of man
would stab me in my
outstretched hand.

A lesson was
learned about
paranoia and why
it exists. Even if I watch
where I'm going, polluters
will slit my wrists until the findings
of the swamp are forgotten in favor of scars.