Tiger, Shadow Warrior
(With apologies to William Blake)
This stealthy Tiger never burned bright
In the jungle forest’s Stygian night;
thy dread hand struck awful fear
In enemy hearts, far and near.
Ghosting through the ‘Wait-a-Bit’
Like a feral hellion from the Pit,
Triple canopy hid starless skies
From thy fierce, fiery eyes.
It strains one’s credulity:
He who made the lamb also made thee!
Carrying a K-bar, never a spear,
Thy crafty eyes had no time for tears.
Tiger, Tiger, concealing thy light
In jungle shadows of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Hurry back, Old Son.
© T. P. Woodfork
For J.C.C. Vincent –
“Tiger, Shadow Warrior”
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
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