Pride On The Prowl

Prowling, padding, gentle yet with might and main,
Bringing terror to the hearts of timid deer,
And death to those that can't manage to sustain
Their speed when fleeing full of fear.

Golden coated, slinking movers through the grass
Camouflaged perfectly in the dappled sun,
Crouched, with haunches tensed, waiting for those who pass
Too close, for lion's pride another chase begun.

The savannah's softness echoed in velvet night
The sounds of unseen life and sudden death
The power of the pride, oh beautiful sight
That sudden rush of awe that takes our breath.