The Goddess in the Lion

Dark brown eyes that are first soft and gentle,

then snap and crackle with fire.

Reddish hair with blonde streaks swept up

in a mane, her walk commanding attention.

A firebrand,

lost in a river of drama,

men bow at her presence.

After all, she is magnificent,

Regal, clothed in royal blues

and purples, nice enough

For her wallet to stretch.

She has an ego and pride as large as

the stride of a lion.

Basking in the sunshine she

lies languidly on a velvet hammock,

sipping on Evian water and Mai Tai’s.

She needs to be in the center of it all,

her name is required to be in lights.

Her hand will show a man to the door

who doesn’t adore her, give her compliments

every moment he can, put her on a pedestal.

A shy pussycat can be hurt easily,

yet she roars at the same time,

and can be heard for miles.

She will lick her wounds,

but be silently planning yours.

The bright intensity of the sun

can be seen through her eyes.

The sinew and strength of a Big Cat

can be seen in her outstretched legs.

The epitome of a Queen

can be seen with one glance her way.

I am proud to be a Leo,

And I know my sign makes me

special, and stand out in a crowd.