The Lion’s Lament - Diane Scantlebury

Was it my imagination
But was that wilder beast tough?
Remarked the lion to his mate
As they lay basking in the rough,

Not as tasty as the hyena
We swiped from the back of the pack,
Or as tender as the antelope
We devoured for a snack,

I’m fit to burst but I must confess
The game around here’s
Getting harder to digest,
Makes me hanker for
The glorious morsels of the past,
When a delightful young zebra
Was a meal that would last,

The savannah’s not what it used to be
We were once so well fed,
Now it’s scraps and scrawny pickings
From a dried up river bed,

I may not be such a gourmand
As I was in my prime,
Oh, if only we could go back
To that lovely, bountiful time!

Diane Scantlebury