DESERT LION

In the desert the winds rise and swirl
There is a spec in the horizon as the sands whirl
It grows and glows, coming fast ever so close
Sleek and strong, without a hint of any repose

It is the magnificent Lion, the Young Desert King
His gait sensuous with a majestic swing
Proud and powerful his limbs ripple strong
As he skims over the sands, striding along

The mane thick and dense, gleaming gold
Muscles glistening, with a power bold
The arrogance of youth sits strong and sure
In him you can behold a hauteur most pure

Poised and royal, waits the gentle Lady in White
Her body fragile, with hungry lips and glowing eyes
The Eternal Virgin, she moves not from whence she stands
But simply watches the Lion skimming over the sands

Transfixed by his beauty, she shudders gently as he draws near
Her arms open wide and spread out without a fear
All fingers slowly stretch and call out beseechingly mute
Inviting the Lion to venture into her refuge

As the Young Lion draws nearer to her presence so magnetic
His body slowly dissolves and he rises as a Man most hypnotic
A more spectacular species of male power and wonder
Had never before been seen in those parts far and asunder

He approaches her, The Virgin as she longingly waits
With arms wide, inviting him to end their mutual dry spate
The proud King though enthralled by her, halts a little away
Waiting for her to take that final step into his embrace

The wind then howls and the sands once again rise
Blanketing everything within the sight
It whips up a tempest most raw and wild
And then quietly dies down as if with a sigh

Whence she had stood, The Virgin, now stands a Tree
With thick wide branches and roots that go down deep
Although the storm has calmed, she sways full swing
Held firm in her place, but whispering softly in the wind

As she rocks, she seems to cry aloud and call
Straining at her roots that ruthlessly her passions stall
For while The Virgin had waited for her Lion to finally come
Her roots have taken hold and seize her in ground so firm

Try as she may she cannot tear herself away
Although her dreams stand simply just a single step away
To fly free with the wind and soar the skies high
Are merely dreams unfulfilled that have no answers to her whys

So though she sways and yearns for her freedom
Those chains, those roots, hold her a prisoner
All this the proud Young King a step away sadly sees
But he resignedly realizes that this is nature's decree

He had come seeking the freedom of a Lioness in her
And found it in her spirit and in her passionate fervor
And yet who could fight against the tide of time
For he had tarried too long and arrived when it was past sunshine

So with a final look of deep desperate sadness he turns
Leaving himself and her, cold, unfulfilled and spurned
As she sees him slowly walk away, into the horizon afar
She remains rooted, alone, empty and forlorn in the dark.

~Glowing Embers~

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