Queen of the Jungle

My ears prick at the slightest sound,
and my eyes watch for any movement,
as Queen of the Jungle, I proudly wear my crown.

I roar like the rumble of thunder,
a warning, the black panther's on the hunt,
there is no mercy for you,
if my paw you find yourself under.

02/01/06.

poem by Liz Munro
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Twarted Tiger.

Tiger hunting in dark of night,
Keenful eyes keeping it's prey in sight,
hidden in the long grass, crouching low,
waiting to deliver it's fatal blow.

Moon watches tiger with a glint in his eye,
illuminates crouched tiger to all prey nearby,
tiger growles at the moon as he shakes his furry head,
and on an empty stomach takes himself off to bed.

tuesday 1st november,2005.

poem by Liz Munro
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Where has the magic of life gone?

Childhood innocence long ago lost,
Real life overtaken make-believe pretend,
Starry-eyed wonder, rational mind has away tossed,
Consuming us all like an animal does it's prey,
Sometimes we don't want to get up, to face the start of another day.
When did the world become engulfed in wars and strife?
What happened to the magic of life?
I don't know but hope, you can find the magic again.

19/12/05.

poem by Liz Munro
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[song]See Me through

[Verse One]
Am I just invisible?
Trapped silently suffering, drowning with this pain,
you swore I was The One and Only,
Why then am I so lonely sitting here?
day by day time just flies me past
left wondering why we didn't last

[Chorus]
Will someone,
see me through?
offer me a hand, giving me back to the sun,
mending my heart,
will someone see me through?

[Verse Two]
I want to leave - but can't say goodbye,
feeling cold and alone,
you said you'ld always stay be my side,
Left with this emptyness that won't let me be

[...] Read more

poem by Liz Munro
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The Greedy Cat at the Cafe.

He sits at the corner table
with not a fur out of place,
delicately he eats with a well-manicured claw,
then, overwhelmed by the delicious smell - and taste,
shovels mouthful after mouthful in with his paw.

He greedy comes to the Cafe everyday
for breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea,
Gets served by Chris and Morgan,
two lovely people who, to please their customers
go out of their way.

The Cafe but had no name,
a catchy title none could think of,
But then the cat with the appetite so greedy,
said 'why not name it after me? '

'I always come here everyday,
and the freshest food you go out of the way to serve,
It would do me the greatest honour

[...] Read more

poem by Liz Munro
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