When he threw a sumptuous banquet to honor all his minions, they showed up by the thousands via hoof and fin and pinions. He planned a sumptuous feast , hoping that it would invigorate, but instead the meal he’d seved only served to agitate. The pelicans were shocked by the roast turkey and fried chicken, for they found such a diet to be less than finger-licken’.
The shrimp cocktail shocked the flounder and made the tuna ill. Before they even had a bite, they found they’d had their fill. The black Angus were all traumatized when they were served the veal. Sheep couldn’t eat the mutton and Baaah-humbugged the whole meal. Thus, one-by-one they found the king of beasts to be barbarian. How short-sighted he’d been not to just go with vegetarian!
Lions don’t do well in a setting too bucolic. Their herding instinct’s lethal and they flunk in ovine frolic. Lions need to stalk and kill. They need open savannas. They’d eat all the lambs and for dessert, eat all their nannas! And if we shut the lions up, they’d go into decline. Living in small cages simply isn’t leonine. Lions need to roam the plains lest they become pathetic. There’s nothing half so sad as a lion that’s apathetic.
Oh no. I somehow erased the pingbacks for the four prompts for this poem! Thanks to okcforgottenman for pointing this out. Well, better late than never. The prompt words were lion, apathetic, shut and bucolic.