Below is a Collection Of Big Cat Poems. I Made This Page After Reading The Poem Below Called ( Cecil - By: Peter D Hehi )
If You Have A ( Big Cat ) Poem That`s Not Listed Below And Would Like To Add It, Please E- Mail Me Below. Please List
The Name Of Your Poem And By: Who? - If You Spot A Poem That Is Yours And Would Like It (Removed) Please Let Me Know.
Thank You And Hope Everyone Enjoys All These Different Types Of Poems.



- Poem Categories -

Lion Poems | Tiger Poems | Leopard Poems
Snow Leopard Poems | Cheetah Poems | Jaguar Poems
Mountain Lion Poems | White Lion Poems | White Tiger Poems
Lion King Poems | Mane Page / Home




Lion Poems
^Up To Menu^


CECIL - By: Peter D Hehir

(In Memory of Cecil The Lion)

Where once you roamed a gentle soul,
With a fierce face and eyes of coal,
But ever still the beast you were,
Like a loving king in a lions fur.

You gave a smile to a world in awe
And shouted back with a gentle roar,
Then raised your Cubs on the barrow land
Where human sit and lions stand.

But now you’ve gone just time remains
And human hands show bloody stains
So goodnight Cecil and rest in peace,
You remain a king in a Golden Fleece.


"The Lion" By: Hilaire Belloc"


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.


A Lion Looms Listless By: J.A.B.

A cold lion roams, doctrinaire and sterile,
The expanse of Africa offers him no sanctuary,
the Saringehti no salvation, He can only smell the scent of his pride now,
his cubs shun him, Repelled
by needless roars, the revolting rants,
Tail tattered, biten by jackels at will,
His nose bit and beaten from battles better avoided,
Soul tethered to a label, only a title, "King of the Jungle" ,
Fleas and insects of all sorts find haven in his muddy mane
once so puffed and wide like a thunderhead trampling over Tanzania,
I hear him in the twilight, lonely, unsated and undesired,
Paranoid about a life that does not seem to love him,
His heart became a desserted Athens, a broken, rigid column slumped on the earth,
He wanders near the Nile, nearsighted and nervous
As an Egyptian boy of ancient lineage stalks him sensitively
Putting the speartip to his temple saying,
I see your ribs, your broken paws, your futility,
I will now deliver your soul unto the cool night,
The spear is launched with a certain bloodlust
piercing behind the shoulder blade, his heart hollers
with the cry of scarred suprise, the lion stumbles and pants
vanity no allowing blame for lack of vigilance,
the boy trots to the spot, kneels in token reverence
telling him, sip the black puddle of your error, as eyes fold ever shallow,
let me feed you these apples of arrogance
so to quiet your grievence, to sooth your ego before final sight,
there is no shame in being slain by a Pharoah King, old lion,
I shall wear your teeth as a timeless trophy of tragedy,
Emblematical of Pride gone on too long,
may the spirit of Herodetous teach this lesson to a new breed.


The Lion Of Venice By: Patty DeGroff

Forever the king his roar not just heard but felt,
He dressed within his golden mane such confidence of self.
Eyes fixed upon his prey frozen in time,
such fear felt as the thunder of his throat ever so low chimes.
Centuries so shown upon his face a lifetime as king,
time holds this arrogance as new cubs do bring.
Fighting for the leader holds scars heard and seen,
it is the king of the beast as the pendulum of species so swings.
Where do the old kings go upon the day they fail,
a place upon a hillside old soul now impaled.
Can within a spring storm can you hear their guttural growl,
oh even the trembling of the earth as the thunder moves about.
It is the golden color of hair and eyes unseen until the kill,
as the king of the lions shall never die just be seen at will.


Wings With No Fly - By: Shawn Simmons

My lion can jump high.
In his mind he thought he can fly.
One day it looked like he did.
If he fly's away how will he have a kid.
Tomorrow he will see a girl lion.
I'm taking him to go see her no trying.
So lion you can go ahead and fly.
The other lion will see you in the sky.
Now will that be right.
When I see you I will bring out my big light.
So it can shine bright.
The light doesn't work well.
The moon can still tell.
only when it's dark outside.
Lion you can't hide.
Go to sleep and dream.
Tomorrow you will know who is on your team
Just wake up tomorrow and talk to the birds ,
Because the girl lion will have the last words.
So don't fly tonight lion.


Lioness - By: Jordyn Fuller

A lioness courting may cause one to pause
As a beautiful sound floats from between bestial jaws
Her claws are retracted and give chase to embrace
And her wet licking kisses will soon cover the face
When the flesh twists and dances to the tune that she sings
There’s no song more romantic than the coming she brings
As the music dies down there can be no worse a verse
For behind every blessing steps forward the curse
That the heart should keep beating against quivering breast
As all joy is fleeting and a beast needs her rest.


The Lioness ROAR!! By: Sinead Dwyer - Elizabeth Grace

Paws beat the ground, scents fill my nostrils, flaring.
I crave the sunlight as I tear through tall grass, glaring.
Sweet meets tempt too much to resist - daring.
Bounding to its doom, claws wish to explore, snaring.
Golden coat gleaming, I halt on savanna - preparing
to leap. Exploding from my hiding spot, never sparing
a thought but for that tasty zebra, and wearing
its blood, my trophy. -stop- a woody smell tearing
through the air. FIRE! Gallop away, swearing.
Could've had that tasty morsel. My requirements too overbearing.
Wind rustling my fur, I rejoice, my fury swift repairing.
Return home calm, prowess at ease. I am content with sharing.
Munch munch munch.


The Lion By: Elisse Amstutz

A creature of pride
with nothing to hide
we creatures are pure of heart
true of courage
with a mask of savage
a mane as gold as our hearts

A lover of our liter
though many think us bitter.
It's a symbol of bravery.
What humans have changed
we will avenge;
the lions, as much as me

I am real and true
I can be to you
following Orion,
Though friend or foe,
you all should know
you, too, are a lion.


The Roaring Lion Came By: Lisa Oyanna

The noise was deeper than a tribal drum,
but constant and ancient.
It rumbled out a fearful warning
and it came across the orange land,
its maker hidden in the swaying grass.

"Run, run the lions here!" A voice called out.
Then the silence of a hunter as it ran,
paws pressing down the sand,
and up upon a rocky outcrop
high above the rolling plains appeared
a noble king his mane a crown of furry gold.

All the men and woman stopped and stared.

He raised his head, pushed out his chest
and roared into the sun, the
sound a terrifying scream
of fangs and quakes and
as it grew the earth began to shake.


King Looks On By: Cheryl Sandberg

He watched from his shade
lionesses gathering for a hunting raid.

Already he had told them of his hunger
roared and scared them with his anger.

Those sandy cats were trained to kill
hunting pray to have their fill.

A pride of lions, deadly sleek,
driving fear into the brave and to the weak.

The king he watched them fade from sight
then closed his eyes to shield them from the light.


The Lion's Roar By: Dwayne Leon Rankin

Deafening was the Lions roar.
In strength and pride he stands.
Terror was the way he rules.
As King through out the lands.

For miles around he could be heard,
Letting known his wrath.
Roaring out his challenge,
To all who crossed his path.

Majestic was his stature.
And fear he did instill.
Waiting for the time to come
When he'd make his kill.

Lying hidden on the grassy plains.
Silently he stalks his prey.
Patiently waiting for his chance
To claim his feast this day.

Sated now he sleeps the day,
Lying in the shade of trees.
Waiting for the night to come,
To then do as he please.

Once again he makes his way,
In his throat a growl.
Letting all around the Plain
Know he's on the prowl.

All creatures know that fearsome sound,
Knows death is at the door.
They know the King is getting close,
When they hear the Lions Roar!


At The Zoo By: Brian F Kirkham

I went to the zoo today,
Saw a small elephant play.
A Tiger with stripes and great big paws
and a Lion with Mane and great big claws!
but that wasn't everything i saw
Today
Went to the Zoo today,
Saw a spotted le0pard sleeping in a bush
as a black panther hid among the brush
and cubs with their mums in such a rush
Today
I went to the zoo today,
and saw the chimps and monkeys at play
Gorillas on trees, swatting off fleas
and Marmosets hanging off branches by their knees!
Today
I Went to the zoo today,
saw buzzards and other birds of prey
'gainst grand scottish hills
enjoying their scraps and swoops and spills
as i ate my lunch from a restuaurant grill
today
I went to the zoo today,
and saw other animals play.
Saw a Golden Bear, swinging from a tree,
and Monkeys and Gibbons eating their tea,
(Loads of cheeky Chimpanzees!)
and Penguins underwater - like in the sea
swimming past windows - and looking at me
Today.


Tiger Poems
^Up To Menu^


The Tyger - Poem By William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare sieze the fire? And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


The Tiger By: Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919)

In the still jungle of the senses lay
A tiger soundly sleeping, till one day
A bold young hunter chanced to come that way.
"How calm," he said, "that splendid creature lies,
I long to rouse him into swift surprise!"
The well aimed arrow-shot from amorous eyes,
And lo! the tiger rouses up and turns,
A coal of fire his glowing eyeball burns,
His mighty frame with savage hunger yearns.
He crouches for a spring; his eyes dilate--
Alas! bold hunter, what shall be thy fate?
Thou canst not fly, it is too late, too late.
Once having tasted human flesh, ah! then,
Woe, woe unto the whole rash world of men,
The wakened tiger will not sleep again.


Tiger and Elephant By: James McIntyre (1828-1906)

On Ganges banks roams the tiger,
And lion rules by the Niger,
Hunder heard shrill cry of peacocks,
In Indian jungles go in flocks.
And he saw tiger crouch and spring,
To crush a bird with beauteous wing,
But the tiger missed his aim,
And he hung his head with shame.
Then there came a mighty crush,
Of elephants rush through the bush,
The tiger cat-like crouched on ground,
And elephants rushed in with bound.
In front was baby elephant,
To crush its bones did tiger want,
But mother saw fierce forest ranger,
And she gave a cry of danger.
Leader of herd he madly rushed,
Resolved the tiger should be crushed,
But tiger strove to run away,
Willing to relinquish prey.
But when he found that he must fight,
On elephant's back he strove to light,
But elephant struck him with his foot,
And then with tusks he did him root.
So now once more must praise be sung,
To beasts who nobly fight for young,
And grateful feelings were now stirred,
Towards the leader of the herd.


Tiger Hunting In India With Elephants By: Isaac McLellan (1806-1899)

We cross'd a brawling mountain torrent, far
From our Indian camp. The red, angry glare
Of crimson sunset shimmer'd through the clouds
Of dust that fill'd the air with their dull, coppery hues,
Presaging the near coming of a storm.
We pass'd the border-forest's gloomy belt,
Behind which, tier on tier, the mighty range
Of the majestic Himalayas tower'd in air,
Till their snow-clad summits seem'd to pierce the sky;
Had pass'd thro' villages in dense mango groves-- Past temples, shadow'd by great tamarind-trees;
Past crowded hamlets fill'd with din and dust;
Past the low country, covered with green crops;
Past patches of rice stubble, with dense grass between,
Whence rose the partridge, plover, and the quail,
And florican and pea-fowl, in dense flocks;
Past groves of feathery bamboo and the palm,
And plumy plaintains that conceal the huts,
'Midst aloe-hedges festoon'd with gay vines.
There were few song-birds flitting thro' the gloom
Of wood arcades, to make them musical.
The songless horn-bill darts from tree to tree;
The big woodpecker taps the hollow log,
With gorgeous plumage glistening in the sun;
Flights of green parrots scream above your head;
The golden oriole and the bulbul make
Their feeble chirrup, while at times resounds
The melancholy hoot of blinking owl,
Or golden pigeon's soft and murmurous coo.
There, on the borders of the jungle wild,
The hunters pause ere they invade its depths.
'Twas a dark, deep, impenetrable swamp,
Thick with tall reeds and wild vines interlac'd--
Homes of the savage creatures of the waste--
The tiger's haunt, fierce monarch of the woods!
Here rang'd the brown hog-deer in browsing herds,
The wild pig and the boar, with gnashing tusks;
Here tramp'd the black rhinoceros on his way,
And wallow'd the big buffaloes at will;
The jackals rais'd at night their fearful howl,
While overhead great flocks of vultures soar'd.
And here the hunting elephants are rang'd
In line continuous, ready for the charge;
Each bears a howdah on his towering back,
Whereon the hunter with his rifle sits,
To stop the royal game with fatal aim.
Soon the long line advances thro' the wood,
Trampling the bending branches and the reeds,
While loud the native beaters sound their drums,
And kindle into flames the jungle grass--
Kindle acacia shrubs and thorny bush.
So they press on, a wall of flame behind,
While fast before them flies the frantic game.

At length a tiger bounds away in fright,
And fast the goaded elephant pursues.
As fast he tears thro' tangled jungles green,
Like great ship surging thro' the ocean tides.
The Mahouts rain their blows upon his head,
The spearmen prick him with their lances keen;
While on thro' bush and brake, thro' thorny scrub,
Through stream, and down precipitous ravine,
The headlong chase is urg'd, till, brought to bay,
The tiger falls beneath th' unerring shot.


Tiger Poem By: ?

I see a tiger in the jungle
and his eyes are shining bright.
I see a tiger in the jungle
and his teeth are big and white.
I see a tiger in the jungle
and he's running fast and free.
I see a tiger in the jungle
and he is going to eat me.


Tiger Eyes - villanelle By: Penelope Allen

I see dark skies in Tiger eyes
as they stalk through dense underbrush.
Rich amber glints are wild and wise.

What do they seek, do you surmise?
A time to kill with jaws that crush.
I see dark skies in Tiger eyes
The daily haunts, the silent spies

watching for hunters, striped and plush.
Rich amber glints are wild and wise.
A heavy heat hums with blowflies.
The twilight calls a blue rock thrush.
I see dark skies in Tiger eyes

With twitching ears, and bated sighs,
a drama play with facile hush.
Rich amber glints are wild and wise.

The quiet breaks with warning cries,
too late to halt the heady rush.
I see dark skies in Tiger eyes
Rich amber glints are wild and wise.


The Tiger By: Hilaire Belloc

The tiger, on the other hand,
Is kittenish and mild,
And makes a pretty playfellow
For any little child.
And mothers of large families (Who claim to common sense)
Will find a tiger well repays
The trouble and expense.


The Other Tiger By: Jorge Luis Borges

A tiger comes to mind. The twilight here
Exalts the vast and busy Library
And seems to set the bookshelves back in gloom;
Innocent, ruthless, bloodstained, sleek
It wanders through its forest and its day
Printing a track along the muddy banks
Of sluggish streams whose names it does not know
(In its world there are no names or past
Or time to come, only the vivid now)
And makes its way across wild distances
Sniffing the braided labyrinth of smells
And in the wind picking the smell of dawn
And tantalizing scent of grazing deer;
Among the bamboo's slanting stripes I glimpse
The tiger's stripes and sense the bony frame
Under the splendid, quivering cover of skin.
Curving oceans and the planet's wastes keep us
Apart in vain; from here in a house far off
In South America I dream of you,
Track you, O tiger of the Ganges' banks.

It strikes me now as evening fills my soul
That the tiger addressed in my poem
Is a shadowy beast, a tiger of symbols
And scraps picked up at random out of books,
A string of labored tropes that have no life,
And not the fated tiger, the deadly jewel
That under sun or stars or changing moon
Goes on in Bengal or Sumatra fulfilling
Its rounds of love and indolence and death.
To the tiger of symbols I hold opposed
The one that's real, the one whose blood runs hot
As it cuts down a herd of buffaloes,
And that today, this August third, nineteen
Fifty-nine, throws its shadow on the grass;
But by the act of giving it a name,
By trying to fix the limits of its world,
It becomes a fiction not a living beast,
Not a tiger out roaming the wilds of earth.

We'll hunt for a third tiger now, but like
The others this one too will be a form
Of what I dream, a structure of words, and not
The flesh and one tiger that beyond all myths
Paces the earth. I know these things quite well,
Yet nonetheless some force keeps driving me
In this vague, unreasonable, and ancient quest,
And I go on pursuing through the hours
Another tiger, the beast not found in verse.


Tiger Poem By: ?

The biggest cat,
The meanest cat,
A feline that's for real.
If you forget these tiger facts,
You may become my meal!
If you think,
I’m African,
Perhaps I gotta' eat.
Everything that smells like you,
Starting with your feet!
If you think,
Lions are,
The largest cats on land.
I might make a meal of you,
Starting with your hand! If you don't know,
My dark black stripes,
Are tiger’s special marks,
I might decide to,
Taste your toes,
My teeth are sharp as shark's!
The biggest cat,
The meanest cat,
A feline that's for real.
If you forget those tiger facts,
You may become my meal!


Tiger - Tiger Poem By: Joan O, Sawyer

Tiger, Tiger on the wall
So you hear the jungle`s call ?
Do you dream of stalking rats
And mice nd birds and other cats ?
or will you stay at home today
And doze upon your sunny wall
And just ignore the jungle`s call.


Poem By: ?

Orange White and Black. He`s sitting in the tree,
Watching everything go around, around around Like he`s
looking for something, something he was. His eyes like
fire, burning as hot as dry ice, So cold its hot to the
touch. He`s sitting in the tree, now gazing, What was he?
was he a king of a past life ? or was he a Soul?
A soul just forgotten ? His eyes tell it all. Was his fur
skin? Was each fang faith? Was he the king, but now forgotten?
He`s getting up now, watching. It seems like all he does is
watching, watching and waiting. Was he a father of a lost kid ?
Was he a guardian of someone`s soul ? There he goes, with the
grace of a king.


Can You Guess What I Am ? By: Chris ?

As i walk you stare
And i shoot you a glare
When you point, i get mad
When you see me look you are sad.
when i am mad, I roar
And if you dont run you`ll be sore!
I have big claws and little flaws.
I have many stripes and many types.
I abvertise kellog`s and dislike dogs
I stalk for a need, A need to feed.
When i stare at you, I see a tasty
treat. So if you don`t want to be my
snack you better make a hasty retreat !!


Leopard Poems
^Up To Menu^


Leopard Race By: William Worthless


the leopard and the cheetah decided they would race
to see who was the fasted with the faster pace
they made up a track around the sandy plain
first one to the end then race back again.

they lined up together leopard shouted go
cheetah right behind him he kept his pace real slow
saving all his energy ready for the end
then his faster pace cheetah he would send.

the race was near the end leopard was a head
cheetah he changed gear left leopard there for dead
cheetah won the race the fasted one was he
fasted creature in the world he was meant to be.


Leopard Beauty By: William Worthless

the leopard he his lovely with all his little spots
all along the jungle he just gently trots
looking for his pray then he begins his chase
changing up a gear for a faster pace

he likes to hunt at dark hunting through the night
looking for a feed with his nocturnal sight
they just love to climb high up in the trees
sitting on the branches in the summer breeze

such a lovely creature with his coat of gold
a lovely piece of nature a creature to behold.


Civilization—Spurns—The Leopard! By: Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)

Was the Leopard—bold?
Deserts—never rebuked her Satin—
Ethiop—her Gold—
Tawny—her Customs—
She was Conscious—
Spotted—her Dun Gown—
This was the Leopard’s nature—Signor—
Need—a keeper—frown?

Pity—the Pard—that left her Asia—
Memories—of Palm—
Cannot be stifled—with Narcotic—
Nor suppressed—with Balm—


The Leopard And The Lion Chose To Become Friends By: Alexander K Opicho

The leopard and the lion chose to become friends,
For they were all proud of claws on their paws
They each glorified one another for their mighty,
Ability to live on meat of other fauna throughout a year,
They each admired one another for running speed,
They each remained firm and loyal to one rule;
Lions don’t eat leopards neither leopards eat lions.
They felt warmth in their companionship without verve,
Until the time they initiated a certain joint venture;
To hunt an antelope as it was famed to be the sweetest,
Again, there had remained one antelope only in the world,
They dilly and not dallied anyhow about such glittering project,
They both endevoured to set forth by each dawn for a whole year,
Tediously hunting throughout a day, the lion doing a great part,
Setting ambuscades and arduously sleuthing to orient on trail,
The leopard severally fainted in the field due to exhaustion,
On one eve of christmas day, the lion captured the prey,
When the leopard was a sleep shivering in fevers of malaria,
Their prey was a middle aged female antelope with swollen hips.
The leopard was sparked to fire of life by a mysterious fillip,
He boldly requested work, now to help the lion in carrying,
The un-suspecting lion relinquished the carcass to the leopard,
Feat of shrewdness gripped the leopard, he took off
Running away with a lightening speed, the antelope on his mouth,
The lion again began to chase, shouting to the leopard,
To be a gentleman and stop running, for them to share the plunder,
The leopard never listened, he craftily climbed to the apex,
Of the most tall and most slippery tree, he perched at the peak
With the antelope on his muscular mandibles of voracity,
The lion remained at the stem, wailing like a toddler
His family does not climb trees, not even a shrub,
The lion wailed, using all styles of wailing,
Pleading with the leopard to donate even an iota,
Not even a small piece of antelope bone dropped
To drop on the ground for the lion to taste,
Human leopards are not good hunting companions.


White Leopards By: Paul Hardwick

Born was a leopard
who only had two spots
well I say spots
but more like dots
one on his arse
and the other at the end of his tail
this leopard was no snail infact
this leopard was so fast
that when god painted him
he just shot past.


The Leopard By: Lorenzo Thomas

The eyeballs on her behind are like fire
Leaping and annoying
The space they just passed
Just like fire would do

The ground have no mouth to complain
And the girl is not braver herself

She is beautiful in her spotted
Leopard ensemble. Heartless so

To keep her fashionalbe in New York
Leopards are dying

Crude comments flutter around her
At lunchtime. She sure look good
She remembers nine banishing speeches

More powerful than this is the seam
Of the leotard under her clothing

Her tail in the leotard is never still
The seam!
She feels it too familiar on her leg
As some crumb says something suggestive

The leopard embracing around her
Is too chic to leap and strike

Her thoughts fall back to last semester’s karate

Underneath, the leotard crouches up on her thigh
It is waiting for its terrible moment!


A Leopard Lay By: Linda A. Copp

A Leopard lay amidst the trees,
hiding in its greeny leaves,
Lazing in the noon day sun,
with no desire, none to run.

Listening to the rustling breeze,
he cautions it to, "Hush, don't breathe.
Give no signal, that I lie
Upon this perch, up in the sky."

His hooded eyes seem half asleep,
His body quivers, never sleeps.
For as quick as lightening, he'll flash down,
On any prey, yet, make no sound.

So, people prowling on the ground,
Take care to more than look around.
Dangers lurking everywhere,
both on the ground and in the air.

And wildcats, well, they seldom sleep.
Dreams of theirs don't run too deep.
Their nature makes them keen and fierce,
their teeth are sharp, they claws will pierce.

A Leopard lay amidst the trees,
suddenly he hears.
He sees.
Now, he's up and through,
its greeny leaves.
Look up.
He's up.
Oh! LOOK UP!
PLEASE!


Snow Leopard Poems
^Up To Menu^


The Snow Leopard By: Jason Gray


In the Metro Toronto Zoo
He pads on grassy banks behind a fence,
with measured paces slow and tense.
Beyond his cage his thoughts are sharp and white;
he lives a compelled anchorite.A solid ghost gone
blind with all the green,he waits and waits to be unseen.


Snow Leopard - By: Denis Martindale

The snow leopard stared intently,
At all things near and far...
While at times, he looked quite friendly,
You know how wild cats are.
A tiny cat can mew meow
And people say, how cute!
Yet time goes on, then fates allow
That cat to be a brute!

The snow leopard stood serenely,
His paws poised on the pulse...
With his eyes surveying keenly,
As in all leopards' skulls...
While his heart was beating slowly...
His mind was thinking fast.
Though his hunting skills weren't holy,
He didn't look downcast.

Survival favours those that eat
A hearty meal each day,
Enduring both the cold and heat,
Outwitting all their prey.
That's why the leopard had to learn
That patience is the key...
And why, he, too, must wait his turn,
For breakfast, lunch and tea...

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Snow Leopard'.


Snow Leopard By:Ronald W. Hull

High in her Himalayan home,
she surveys the span of her roam.
Perpetual snow and rocky ridge,
she knows her range,
she knows her edge.

She hides in a computer,
and is rarely seen.
Her stealth is incredible,
her logic is keen.

From her ledge she perceives
prey far below.
Its brown coat,
standing out in the snow.

More than a leopard,
or even a tiger,
she's faster and stronger,
than those far below her.

Stealthily she stalks,
while the snow falls.
Her prey is apprehensive,
perched on vertical walls.

She languidly rests,
relaxing inside her lair.
You know she’s in there,
she's so sleek and so fair.

Her attack is swift,
but agonizingly long.
After many misses and slips,
her prey is brought down.

She gives birth to apps,
as though they were kittens.
Everyone embraces them,
so soft, they are smitten.

It's a long, hard climb up,
but she is incredibly strong.
She slips and staggers,
She twitters and tweets,
textes for tips and treats.
Multimedia is her playground,
surfs with the ether elites.

To her kittens so fair,
in the rarefied air.
Warm and waiting,
for their supper.

So she lies in wait,
for the next update,
to replace her, in a line
that is certainly her fate.

Her kittens must learn,
soon, before it is too late.
How to survive for themselves,
so highly endangered is their fate..
but carries on.


Snow Leopard By:Shanon Peter Davis

Big, majestic, always watchful.
A deep presence in his eyes, yet the intense anxiety of burning embers engraved into his wondering gaze.
An elk ignites his mighty flames within.
He stalks so silent so stealth-like.
It's amazing, such a chance should present itself.
He readies himself in his final position.
Suddenly, he bolts like a bush fire, his eyes set on the prey.
He races towards the elk, spurting with energy.
The elk reacted too late.
The snow leopard pounces on the elk.
With one swift motion he renders the elk's hide through butter.
The elk was overcome by death.
The snow leopard feasts on the fallen elk and leaves its carcus to melt into the snow.
The snow leopard had no pedators until man came trudging into his villa.
But this snow leopard is left to stalk another day.


Cheetah Poems
^Up To Menu^


The Cheetah By: Gracie Robertson

The faster the cheetah flies,
The faster his poor prey dies.
The hungrier the cheetah gets,
The longer his prey frets.
He happens to be real smart,
He always plays a part,
In keeping the population down,
He sometimes eats something brown.
He sometimes does not catch his food,
'cause his prey is really rude.
The lions and leopards growl,
Show that they're on the prowl,
They hunt for anything that moves,
Including the cheetahs brood.
The cheetah now has no young,
to carry life to old and young.

Each cheetah cheek is quite unique
With its own spots and lines
And cheetahs have the best physique
Great speed in sleek design!

For you want to know how fast I go?
Seventy-five miles per hour!
The fleetest feet on the planet
We call that cheetah power!

But the cheetah’s speed starts with a “hush”
As we slowly crawl through brush
We cannot rush — the hunts a bust!
If just one can see us!

But if we manage to get close
Then from that brush we’ll spring!
With strides longer than you can leap
We seek out necks to cling!

For we have the quickest of fleet feet
And a speed no one can meet!
With the sleek speed of the cheetah
We’re the cats that can’t be beat!


Cheetah Watch By: ?

i like to watch the cheetah as he begins his chase
running like the wind with his speedy pace
chasing down his prey with such skill and grace
like a racing car he begins his race'.

then in to the air he will quickly bounce
landing on to his prey with a mighty pounce
the fasted of them all a lovely chap his he
a hunter of the wild with a life so free.


Cheetah By: Marshal Gebbie

A coarse, yellow coat with dark spot aplenty
Lean as a greyhound with limb long and lengthy,
Faster than hare from a cold standing start
Impossibly glimpsed in tall grasses that part.
Crystaline jewels in two huge hazel eyes
With the svelt of a feline’s cold killing surprise,
Explosively quick with an elegant gait
And a murderous jaw full of canines that wait
For a fleeing gazelle or a springbok at speed
Then a launch that would emulate bullet, when freed.
Incredibly smooth with a fast loping stride
That would tax any racehorse an envious ride,
Snapping manouvers to left and to right
That mirror a quarry’s evasions of flight.
A blur in a frantic explosion of dust
Then the life blood erupts, splashing red as the rust.

Heaving great flanks after thrill of the chase
Wide open muzzle and gore on the face,
Guarding the game till the kittens locate
Then the spoils of the chase will make portions dictate.


I Am The Cheetah By: ?

Swift on my paws,
and my long slender legs.
Not a sound to be heard,
but the racing of my heart.

I glide through savannah,
past the zebra and the buffalo.
As quick as I am,
not even the Eagle can catch me.

My enemy is the Lion,
my allies are my brethren.
My prey be the Gazelle,
and my home the wide open spaces.

I am the Wind,
cunning and swift.
I Am The Cheetah,
Forever may I be.


Cheetah's Chase Poem By: Dave Pass

The sun shone down on the African plain.
The trees and the grass were short of fresh rain.
Giraffes munched slowly from tall thorn bushes.
Hippos in the pool were hid by rushes.

The animals came to the pool to drink
They weren’t aware of the cheetah I think.
The elephants were safe for they were strong.
The impalas could graze but not for long.

The cheetah through the long grass came slinking
Its muscles tense and its eyes not blinking.
It kept on crawling ‘til it came quite near
To the wildebeest and impala deer.

The cheetah charged it was ready to eat.
In each second it ran eighty feet.
The animals scattered and ran in fear,
The victim could not escape it was clear.

The cheetah bit its throat and down it came.
The impala died soon, it seemed a shame.
But a balance between hunter and prey
Keeps both healthy and is good in a way.


Jaguar Poems
^Up To Menu^


A jaguar got power.
A jaguar got skill.
But in its final hour,
A jaguar has to kill.
The jaguar lives in the rainforest.
Where it hides to live.
When hunters come with bullets on their chest,
They leave with pelts to give.
Their only sanctuaries is the zoo for it’s refuge.
With their nice habitable facilities;
And its artificial deluge.
The jaguar’s can repopulate in tranquility.


The Jaguar's Leap By:Savannah Rose Harper

Fearless jaguar
Making your leap
Into Destiny
I wish you luck

Your Spotted grace
gliding off of
The Rock
In intensity

You and your
Velvet pelt
Dotted in gold and brown
are thrown into infinity.


Choices In The Jungle By: Erik Spector

Set me adrift
Turn me right around,
That's where I'm going.
That's where I'm found.
Parakeets.
Monkeys.
Snakes to eat.
Venomous, poisonous
As all this retreats.
Spines in the river;
Sharp, hungry teeth.
Pass through the darkness
A clearing now nears.
Towering waterfall, loftiest trees
A Jaguar now glimpsed, into Jungle is seen.
Turn me right around
As rain clouds appear.
The Waterfall. Darkness. Too few sounds.
The others now listened, but I
Near the Jaguar was found.


Distant Hunter By:Cassidy Kee

I am the stalker in the night
The hunter, the predator, the carnivore.

I am two eyes glowing bright
Frightening, malevolent, hungry.

I am the shadow outside your fire
Slinking, silent, unafraid.

I am here just look higher
In a tree, hidden by leaves, watching closely.

I am the jaguar
Always creeping, never sleeping, and one with the earth.


Lion King Poems
^Up To Menu^


The Lion King - By: Denis Martindale

Two lions fought beneath the sun...
Their teeth as sharp as nails
And when their fight was truly done,
One lion tipped the scales.
The other lion fled the scene
And no more would return.
Though savage, wounded, no more keen
The mightier to learn.
The undefeated lion stood
And watched the loser leave.
He didn't think himself as good
And yet he didn't grieve.
This was their way for centuries,
Their ancient remedy.
Their battles for supremecies
Would end each mystery.
They'd never choose alternatives,
Their code they'd never flout.
No matter if one dies, one lives...
They'd fight to end the doubt.
Thus courage burns within their veins...
Volcanoes borne of rage.
Only the winner truly gains
The right to centre stage.
In truth, the winner takes it all.
The loser has no pride.
Although once mighty, doomed to fall,
Then to be cast aside.
Two lions fought beneath the sun...
For them, it was too late,
For soon, there'd only be the one
Who'd live to celebrate.
Each battle scar that's brought to mind,
Reminds him of this day...
The courage he was forced to find...
The price he had to pay...

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
By Stephen Gayford Called 'The Lion King'.


Lion King By: William Worthless

there was a little cub a lion cub was he
he dreamed of being king and one day he would be
with his big long mane a ruler of his pride
and his lioness walking by his side
he would be the leader and teach them right from wrong
the king of all the jungle so mighty big and strong.


The Lion King's Roar By: Beryl Stroud Edmonds

The lion has command of the land
For he is so strong and grand
There's no man or beast
Could get the upper hand

The Lion is called 'King'
It can't be denied
For he's the hunter of food
And takes care of his Pride

When you hear the Lion's roaring
'Keep away' he is warning
For this is his territory, his place
Woe betide who or whatever sneaks into his space

Or maybe one of the Pride has gone astray
His roar is the signal that shows them the way
Whatever the reason, whatever it's for
There's nothing like the sound of
'The Lion King's Roar'!


Simba! - By: Denis Martindale

The lion was named as Simba,
The winner of each brawl,
Yet the reason was much simpler,
His legend's known to all...
Portraying all a lion was
And all God meant to be,
Magnificent and all because
He ruled with majesty...

He didn't merely walk, he strode,
He moved with style and grace,
As if to serve some higher code,
Content all foes to face...
And few would dare to contradict
His power and his guile,
He was the lion king God picked
And for a long, long while...

The other lions understood,
They knew their place, of course,
They knew he ruled the neighbourhood
And thus obeyed his laws...
No friends had he, not even one
And yet he didn't care,
For at each meal that had begun,
He had the lion's share...


Simbas Lecture By: Solle

In Africa there is a land
Which is really very grand
It carries the name Pride Land
Its ruled by the lion, not by the man.
Simba is the king and Nala the Queen
Kiara the Princess, the best that`s ever been.
But the young cub has one great ache,
Her father protects her, for her own sake.
Each morning she runs off to play,
But Simba stops her, he says: "Hey!"
"Do not forget the plains are wild,
Please be careful, my dear child.
Keep out of trouble, use your brain
Try to stay dry if it should rain.
Be back at home before sun set
You know my demands, make sure they are met.
All my rules are set with love,
You are my treasure, my little dove.
I could ask Zazu, that nice old bird
Of a better babysitter Ive never heard!
But he is busy performing his job
I can not ask anymore of that poor slob.
Instead I have to send my two good friends
Timon and Pumbaa, odds and ends."

Kiara is impatient, she wants to go play
Doesnt feel like listening to Daddy all day,
So she tries to quietly slip out of sight,
But Simba restrains her with all his might.
"You cant go just yet, my lecture is not done!
Why, I had barely just begun."
This is just what Kiara fears,
She tries to put her paws over her ears.
Does not feel like listening, shes heard it all before
She simply cant bear to hear it once more.
So the Princess runs down from mighty Pride Rock,
Leaving Simba the King standing there in shock.
Nala the beautiful queen comes out from the cave.
She says to her husband: "Kiara`s not your slave.
You cannot command her, however hard you try.
She wont be controlled by you, so let it pass by.
Simba, my love, just relax and you will see:
Kiara needs to be happy, she needs to be free."


My Kovu By: Natashya J Rowden

"When I grow up, I wanna find a guy to be my Kovu!"
I said so strongly when I was a little girl,
Glued in front of my TV set watching Lion King 2,
I always acted like little Kiara.
My dad back then,
When I was still his little Princess,
He just smiled and laughed.
He's never believed that love existed.
But I always knew I would find him.

I giggle and I laugh,
A little girl again,
And proud of it!
I found love,
He's my Kovu.

Laughing and playing with me,
Protective,
But I can alway keep him amazed,
Keep him interested.
He's impressed with my spirit,
Gets fustrated with my stubborness.
He loves my little querks,
And laughs when I mess up.
We make fun of each other,
And share our tears.
We listen to each others dreams,
And help each other fight our nightmares.
We joke,
And are serious.
We fight,
But always make up.

When we are older we want cubs,
And he puts me on a pedastal,
Yeah, I have him wrapped around my little claw~
And that's how I like it.
We are equals.

I deflate his head when I can't see past it's hugeness,
He tickles me and makes me squeak when I get too stiff.
We share our memories,
And laugh when we make new ones.
We want each others heart,
But we respect each other.

I am high spirited, compassionate, and loving,
Always faithful and dedicated.
He is soft on the inside and passionate in all he does.
We are both children still~
The world no matter how serious is still it's our game!

We don't have to run in circles to impress each other;
We just smile and bash our eyelashes.
We run into each other,
And end up tackling and laughing,
Truely happy in our true love.

We are cubs,
We are in love.
Thank you for being my Kovu!

I promise I'll make it worth putting up with me,
We live in Upendi,
No matter our families persute,
I love you and you love me,
We'll get through anything!

Lion King By: ?

Oh Lion King you look so down
all dressed so regal in your lion crown
so no more growling and give us a
smile. You`ll be back in the jungle in
a little while.


Mountain Lion Poems
^Up To Menu^


Puma Poetry: By: ?

There once was a man from Yuma,
Who told an elephant joke to a puma,
Now his body lies,
Under the hot desert skies,
For the puma had no sense of huma.


Mountain Lion By: Jeanne Fiedler

A Mountain Lion
Paces back and forth
In the dark confines
Of the County Zoo

He sees people poke
Their faces at him
Creeping and reaching
Staring and staring

The same scenery
Over and over
He's restlesss and nervous
He needs a change
He's captive

Longing for help
He needs love and companionship
As he wanders through his life
As he wanders to his death
Only to be replaced
By new baby lions...


Mountain Lion By: David Herbert Lawrence

CLIMBING through the January snow, into the Lobo canyon
Dark grow the spruce-trees, blue is the balsam, water sounds
still unfrozen, and the trail is still evident.

Men!
Two men!
Men! The only animal in the world to fear!

They hesitate.
We hesitate.
They have a gun.
We have no gun.

Then we all advance, to meet.
Two Mexicans, strangers, emerging out of the dark and snow
and inwardness of the Lobo valley.
What are they doing here on this vanishing trail?

What is he carrying?
Something yellow.
A deer?

_Qu? tiene, amigo? Le?n_--
He smiles, foolishly, as if he were caught doing wrong.
And we smile, foolishly, as if we didn't know.
He is quite gentle and dark-faced.

It is a mountain lion,
A long, long slim cat, yellow like a lioness.
Dead.

He trapped her this morning, he says, smiling foolishly.
Lift up her face,
Her round, bright face, bright as frost.
Her round, fine-fashioned head, with two dead ears;
And stripes in the brilliant frost of her face, sharp, fine
dark rays,
Dark, keen, fine rays in the brilliant frost of her face.
Beautiful dead eyes.

_Hermoso es_!
They go out towards the open;
We go on into the gloom of Lobo.
And above the trees I found her lair,
A hole in the blood-orange brilliant rocks that stick up, a
little cave.
And bones, and twigs, and a perilous ascent.

So, she will never leap up that way again, with the yellow
flash of a mountain lion's long shoot!
And her bright striped frost face will never watch any more,
out of the shadow of the cave in the blood-orange
rock,Above the trees of the Lobo dark valley-mouth!

Instead, I look out.
And out to the dim of the desert, like a dream, never real;
To the snow of the Sangre de Cristo mountains, the ice of
the mountains of Picoris,
And near across at the opposite steep of snow, green trees
motionless standing in snow, like a Christmas toy.

And I think in this empty world there was room for me
and a mountain lion.
And I think in the world beyond, how easily we might
spare a million or two of humans
And never miss them.
Yet what a gap in the world, the missing white frost face
of that slim yellow mountain lion!


MOUNTAIN LION ~ ACROSTIC By: Karen Davies

Misted in a shroud of morning dew,
On the hunt the cougar stealthily prowls
Unique in look and confident in stride,
Nature's creature wild, fierce and free.
The smell of rain lingers heavy in air with
A drop or two dotting a sea of leaves.
Inside the cougar hidden stalks his prey
Noticing a deer not far away.

Lovely is the sight of this untamed beast,
Inventive in his skills of survival.
One of nature's most beautiful species,
Nocturnal totem of the everglades.


White Lion Poems
^Up To Menu^


The White Lion By: Macy Dvirnak

I was walking along,
In the Dusk of day,
When I looked up,
And there a creature lay.

This creature,
T'was white as snow,
And in his eyes,
Was sapphire's glow.

The sight of him gave me
Quite a start,
I was far from home,
And it was almost dark.

My heart throbbed with fear
As he drew near...

My mind screamed, flee!
But my legs gave no care,
I was frozen there,
And so I was persuaded to stay.

This lion,
He shook his great mane,
Sending a flurry of snow my way...

Then, instead of coming close,
The lion peered at me and turned to go...

I decided to follow him as he went along,
But before I took a step,
To go-

And the wind, it blew,
And the white lion was gone,
Faded into the snow.


The White Lion By: Birgitta Heikka

From the corners of my eyes, I see him
The White Lion.
Behind me, hunched over
exhaling smoky puffs frigid
as the top of Kilimanjaro.

The White Lion, as a child,
I remember
In my sleep, I see him
scratching the door, wanting to get in
but open the door, I would not.

Its many changes, time has wielded
but his appetite, time has not waned.
The door he has forced open
and now lays in wait.
Ripe for the race is the prey.

Freezing fear
immobilizes me on this hard stool
where I stoop
while he waits, stirring not.

My fear is the White Lion’s delight
My pain, his ecstasy
My discomfort, his purpose.

How long can the hunter wait
for the thrill of the game?
The White Lion is ready for this prey.


White Lion By: Ella Gwen

I feel like the white lion
stuck in a cage for the rest of my days
feet set to tread a path barred and dusty
from all of those who trod before it.

The only excitement, the jangles of
keys from the keeper who runs to
throw carcass of rabbit, turkeys
through my bars for me
to render sustenance, incomplete.

I fear the white lion
hear my lonely roar and wonder
at such talons, canines now stolen
and feet dismembered, claws ripped
from their shackles, top-of-the-food-chain
fear desecrated.

And a genetic time-bomb too
ticks under my skin and theirs
as I sit and I listen to the lies
your children now share.

My line also ends, a mere stutter
in the sand, as the tides flow steady
and the last lion lingers.

And I am, too, held high like a beacon,
a warning, a message spanning
centuries, look, children, look!
See the mistakes of your ancestors.

See how her coat shines so very bright
that it reflects all seven colours
of the light? See how lonely and low
the last of a manipulated, mistaken,
misconstrued species can go?

She was drawn from her mother
mixed with her father, no she doesn't need him
and the others, why yes, all left
are her kin!

How wonderful, how quaint, you
know only ten now remain?
None in the wild of course, where
their life cannot sustain,
better here locked under our
constraints where we have
so much wonder, so much recreation
and education to gain.

And true, from this bleak place
they can never migrate
but look at her, no where else to go
this man-made mistake.

Don’t worry about the pacing,
the maddened, gleaming eye
the freedom they miss
out there? They would die!
And they know no other way
than this.

I know she looks sad, but
that’s just your feelings projecting,
they’re just animals, my darling,
you’re innocent, shouting in consternation
save her in the name of conservation!

But we are all white lions
all now endangered, our steps
are no freer, our lives all
subject to external changes and we
cannot move but for the cage
they have constructed, their
lives are impacted but our
wonder is not deducted.

I feel like the white lion
this ambassador of our greatness
this one mistake, so very clever,
engineered to engage us, these lives that
were wrought solely to entertain us.

I feel it, their future entwined in mine
and in humans across the ages.

Meaning of life designed, its sibilant message
dangerous, a dumb animal wandering
a set path, disregarded, destructive, aimless.


White Tiger Poems
^Up To Menu^


The White Tiger By: Lee ?

The White Tiger The epitome of beauty
Lies in the eyes
Of the white tiger
The gracefulness in his ways
The way he eyes his prey
The heavens shine upon the coat
Of a white tiger
It is pure
It is precious
It is wanted
The white tiger is loved
And known for his understanding ways
The white tiger.


White Tiger - White Tiger By: Michele Wass

White Tiger, White Tiger
Sad truth belies your beauty
majestic as you seem,
an aberration you are,
a fantasy, a dream,
a rarity in nature,
result of a mutant gene.
In ancient times a product
of a damaged seed,
so beautiful, so coveted
man created a non-existent breed,
produced and reproduced
to satisfy his greed.
You, of snow white coat,
of eyes so piercing blue,
of nature kind and gentle,
loyal and so true,
you are the one who suffers
for what some men do,
exploiting you for profit,
pretending to be wise,
while others, ignorant,
believing all their lies,
encourage their deception
betraying trusting eyes.

Oh, beast of rarest beauty,
of heart so true blue,
forgive us if you will,
for the evil that we do.


Tears Of The White Tiger By: David Stephens

She is like a ghost thief in the night
She glides thru the canapy her eyes so bright,
Claws and fangs that could tear into your soul,
She is heartless and her blood runs cold,
Run as swift as the wind and lightning fast,
The fight is quick and never seems to last,
She may be the last of her majestic kind,
She's running out of space and running out of time,
May she always run wild and free,
Can we keep her alive so others may see,
She is an animal of cunning and rare beauty,
And her beauty should be shared by you and me,
The White tiger sad tears she cries,
Because she know her kind will die.


White Tiger---A Childs Poem - By: Ezrin

Black and white stripes has this creature,
Long whiskers and fangs are his features.
With eyes that will keep you in sight,
Where to find the next meal is his plight.

Bounding this white tiger will go,
Following you to where who only knows.
Preparing to attack his prey,
This white tiger might make you say,
"I will now start to weep,
For in this tiger's eye,
I am his meal to eat."


^Up To Menu^


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