On the Savannah
By heinzs
Camouflaged tawny, same as the dry grasses they sleep among, ears twitch and nostrils flare at the gentle breeze. The smell of Zebra permeates the air. The dry heat glistens and shimmers above the wafting grass. Softly she grunts and the pride's future wobbles up to her and meows hungrily. The lioness, mistress of all she surveys, rolls gently to one side and lets the kittens suckle. Mothers' love spans all species and in its universality makes us all the same. Written October 25th, 2001 © on Oct 25 2001 05:03 AM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl 0 • 10
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"Camouflaged tawny,..."