By The Waterhole Poem by Denis Martindale

Two lion cubs laid low once more
Just by the waterhole,
Where they explored their sense of awe,
At peace, not on patrol...
For here, beneath that golden sun,
The silver shimmered still,
Upon the water, having fun,
Just randomly at will...

The cubs surveyed their vast domain,
Content to rule it all,
To daily take the mighty strain,
In answer to the call...
The destiny that falls to those
That Nature bids them hear,
Such that their stature slowly grows
Until their future's clear...

For now, their blessing seems so weak,
So gentle on the breeze,
So natural it's not unique
And yet the wise man sees...
One day, like Titans, side-by-side,
Their skills in one accord,
The lion kings no longer hide,
Their legacy assured...