The first verse of this poem popped into my head one evening, and I began to play around with it. This narrative poem is the result.
The Lion Tamer and The Bugler
I went to the circus,
and what did I see?
Two lions, three tigers
Who bared sharp teeth at me.
The ringmaster smiled
when he waved to the crowd,
swept his hat to the ground,
and bellowed too loud.
The big cats paced in the cage
and answered with a roar.
Clawed paws slapped at the air
when the Tamer slipped in the door.
He bowed from the waist, and
with a shout and crack of his whip,
he approached the big cats—
commands flew from his lips.
Tigers paced and lions growled.
The slap of the whip quieted all.
Then, one lion crouched and jumped.
I gasped as I saw the Tamer fall.
The predator slipped back, ready
to pounce again on his prey.
The circus band sat silent and grim,
until a lone bugler started to play.
The uniformed man stood,
Turned to the beast in the cage
He blew a tune on his horn.
Would it stop the cat’s rage?
Softly at first, then a great deal louder.
The lion’s head lifted, turned quite around.
The downed Tamer now leaped to his feet.
From the crowd, there wasn’t a sound.
At the next crack of the whip,
the stalking lion paced to and fro.
Then quietly, he moved to his place.
The Tamer grinned and went on with the show.