Behind Every Great Lion

 
A halo of flies buzz around his crown
Too quick for the snapping jaws
That bite down, briefly, in irritation:
They escape the click of his kingly teeth
In that gaping mouth which just finished
Feasting on Zebra meat. His Highness
Grows sleepy now in the unrelenting heat—
Having eaten, we might guess, to excess.
Nevertheless, his belly wouldn’t be so full
If such a pride was without a lioness.