Lion Tamer

How could I not admire him,
standing tall in his gleaming tights,
his glittering, jewel decked tunic,
red and purple with golden sheen.
The great beasts circling the ring,
their huge feet padding the sawdust,
till at the crack of his whip, as one,
they leap lithely onto their stools.

They roar and lift their paws at his command,
in turn they prowl around the bright arena,
one jumping through a flaming hoop for him,
another leaping high across steel bars,
a third climbing up high steps and down again.
How they perform for him, their love- hate master,
he turns his back on them to cheers and roars,
and rounds them from the ring as the lights dim.

Back in the caravan, I dance my steps for him,
I jump through hoops, I run around in rings,
perform my act for him, oh how he’s tamed me
with whip-crack and command to do his will,
my tamer of wild beasts, my love-hate master.


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