Through the spiralling red mists of a dust storm
A coppery-gold and black feline emerged.
Sleek, speckled with ethereal kisses,
An elegant shape-shifter with 99 inner eyes.
Freckle-faced, touched by a wizard’s wand,
Instilled with spiritual knowledge
A unique instinct and an illusionist’s cape,
So she can slip like a spirit between worlds.
She is the music of nature,
A Phoenix reinventing herself
Emerald boughs cradle the tree-cat,
Her golden contours ripple like a mirage
As she sleeps safely cushioned in Thalia’s wings.
In the nearness of evening she rouses,
Patiently holding her hunger,
Until light drifts and dies.
In murky fleets, eyes blaze
In a whirlwind, she shazzans the veil of life
From her prey’s eyes,
Spring-boarding it weightlessly through her tree camp.
Leopards are rare relics roaming largely unnoticed,
Fearing mankind, for they have been sought after
Considered as vermin they have been burnt alive.
Despite their perseverance, her story is withering.
The Leopard is a legend and when a legend dies,