let your one hand roar loud
to the heights of the cloud
tingling the ears of hating
roistering to a time for mating

let your other hand roar loud
to the crests of the cloud
tingling the fears true loving
hoistering for a time for mating

bring forth the roaring hands together
let not the air separate them like the railer
let the lions brush their heads
let the roaring hands brush

their heads while thumbs straighten downwards
forming a feeling shape
a feeling that never looses shape
a feeling that has no masking tape

A feeling of love shape

#poetryoftheday #lionhand #writcopoetry #poems #india #africa