her paws, steady on the ground.
eyes wary,
wondering around.
she creeps slowly,
through long African grass,
waiting quietly,
for a victim to pass
she spots a target,
readies herself,
low to the ground,
she uses her stealth.
muscles ready,
eyes on the prey,
waiting for the creature,
who will die today.
she leaps forward,
claws digging in,
to warm hot flesh,
blood trickling.
as the wilder- beast sighs,
a breath of it's last,
the lioness pants
when the animal is passed.
her eyes wonder,
to signs of her cubs,
and from a distance,
they emerge in a hub.
the family feast,
red with blood,
or the unfortunate wilder-beast,
who was badly cut.
as sunset fills,
the empty plains,
as strokes of orange and red,
cast in vain.
the lioness rests,
cubs beside,
they sleep peacefully,
until morning arrives.
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