#savanna - Hello Poetry

Tiny lion laid so low Who cut your mane Your glow The brain-land took, synapses struck then lost you and it your-self and soul The savanna called home smacked of a foreign land we found you hidden and weaving your paw-full feet scratching telescoping your way through the streets of castaways, vines, and fists Catching you then in its paltry honeycomb What are those points of neurons fabricating in your mind feeding fears with gesturing claws devising and fantasizing luring my felis Leo, oh sick cat take our love struggling to bridge the gaps Companions you lost drifting through the dust of the city cement and ****** watered drugs in veins used by demons who take the souls of lions are now in their own generation, generating their continued demise away from you in your living trust Your crown of tresses matted in tassels, we searched the grass and pavements we feared you were lost. adrift, missing and gone. Years past, treatments were tried you emerged the clearing did rise you could now greet the day to the love songs you hear sing them for you, you are the love whose worth is waiting Lead on You Your Highness, watching upon your hill breathe slow linger a bit recognize the worth of time know there is a strength in delay anticipate dear one the sun rises Standy by, for the afterglow Master through life do not succumb your homeland, waiting as new companions take shape As long as there are plenty of tomorrows upon tomorrows to a pick a friend, a quarrel, a dandelion. accept hope, A day for Lions will come.

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Aug 18, 2019

Aug 18, 2019 at 3:03 PM UTC

Highwireart

A Day for Lions Will Come

Tiny lion laid so low Who cut your mane Your glow The brain-land took, synapses struck then lost you and it your-self and soul The savanna called home smacked of a foreign land we found you hidden and weaving your paw-full feet scratching telescoping your way through the streets of castaways, vines, and fists Catching you then in its paltry honeycomb What are those points of neurons fabricating in your mind feeding fears with gesturing claws devising and fantasizing luring my felis Leo, oh sick cat take our love struggling to bridge the gaps Companions you lost drifting through the dust of the city cement and ****** watered drugs in veins used by demons who take the souls of lions are now in their own generation, generating their continued demise away from you in your living trust Your crown of tresses matted in tassels, we searched the grass and pavements we feared you were lost. adrift, missing and gone. Years past, treatments were tried you emerged the clearing did rise you could now greet the day to the love songs you hear sing them for you, you are the love whose worth is waiting Lead on You Your Highness, watching upon your hill breathe slow linger a bit recognize the worth of time know there is a strength in delay anticipate dear one the sun rises Standy by, for the afterglow Master through life do not succumb your homeland, waiting as new companions take shape As long as there are plenty of tomorrows upon tomorrows to a pick a friend, a quarrel, a dandelion. accept hope, A day for Lions will come.

74

It's fine to look back to see how far you have come. Don't dwell, the past should stay behind you.

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Aug 6, 2018

Aug 6, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC

Lyn-Purcell

Savanna (20W)

It's fine to look back to see how far you have come. Don't dwell, the past should stay behind you.

4

Last night you breathed on me. The grass reminded me of the faint color of the sun on your skin. I remember, how we treaded lightly on folded grass; a reminder of how we stayed behind for each other. "Like friends" We would say together. How our own weight carried our sentences to each other almost touching. For T. S. (Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / June 8, 2011 - Parañaque)

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Jan 13, 2013

Jan 13, 2013 at 2:09 AM UTC

lakunoc

On a postcard for T.

Last night you breathed on me. The grass reminded me of the faint color of the sun on your skin. I remember, how we treaded lightly on folded grass; a reminder of how we stayed behind for each other. "Like friends" We would say together. How our own weight carried our sentences to each other almost touching. For T. S. (Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / June 8, 2011 - Parañaque)

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