Side by side the lions stand
staring across a dyke
too wide for them to jump
at the folk crowding the rail.

The lion gives his mate
a lick below the ear.
Courage, he is telling her.
Remember. We are lions.

Far away we can both see
hills on the skyline.
Come, they call, roam on us.
The fun and games we could have.

The keepers come each day
to clear away our ordure
fill the trough with water
and let us share their kill.

But they are careful
never to let us out.
What are they afraid of?
We’d be home in time for tea.

Every day, the sun well risen,
the human monkeys burst in,
crowding the railings
to point at us and mutter.

But they do not like us.
I can see it in their eyes.
Holding their cubs up to their cheeks
they are teaching them to hate.

Daily we forsake our bedding
come out to stand our ground and
stare down the hateful monkeys
for the rest of our lives.