The Lion

The Lion, the Lion, he dwells in the Waste,
He has a big head and a very small waist;
But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim,
And a good little child will not play with him.

by Hilaire Belloc

Comments (1)

not only do i actually like it.......but i shall send it to MyPoemList. it could be that we have different tastes in poetry (at least sometimes) . what didn't you like about it? thanks, john, for sharing. bri :) i especially enjoyed reading: the moon’s face shimmers in the sea like a bad reflection ==================================my humble offering in response to your inspirational poem. Speak To Me, Moon Speak to me, Moon, of what you see. Oh! I forgot; you CAN'T see. Pardon me. Then speak to me, Moon, of what you hear. Damn, you are deaf also, Moon. How queer! Ok then. Speak to me, Moon, of what you feel, as you gaze down on our cities of concrete and steel. What's that you say, Moon? You don't like what you see. Well, I didn't build them, so please don't blame ME! !