Sisters

The lionesses rested there, Two sisters side-by-side... Both breathing gently, without care, Yet their eyes open wide... The day was long, the air was still, The sun was warm not hot And clouds sailed by the distant hill, While they stayed in their spot... To some, these were of royal birth, Princesses and revered. To others, they possessed no worth And nothing to be cheered... Yet for each other, there was love, Affection day-by-day... A tenderness that proved enough, No matter, come what may... As tiny cubs, they'd fooled around, Rejoicing playfully... Receiving every sight and sound, With thanks they'd been born free... For them, the training ground must wait Until another time... The time was now, their adult state, When they were in their prime... Each day, their hunting skills combined To grant them new success And having dined, they now reclined, Both comfy, more or less... They lived their lives, as lions must, In order to survive... Ashes to ashes, dust to dust... Or hunt to stay alive... The poem is based on the magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford called 'Sisters'. The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here: denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com