Spotting the Tiger

We had an inkling of the tiger’s location,
When the deer ran in the opposite direction.
The bus screeched to a grinding halt,
For a glimpse for every tourist worth his salt.

We decided to play the waiting game,
To catch the tiger in our camera’s frame. 
That the fruits of patience are always sweet,
Is something we were taught and believed.

We kept our fingers crossed, 
Oblivious of the time and lost. 

After hours of patient waiting,
And hard and studied gazing,
We saw the tiger quench its thirst, 
Causing within an adrenaline burst.

Big and small, old and young,
Every tourist exclaimed at once.
Some jumped out of their seats,
Others felt weak in their knees.

The Tiger showed such grace and poise,
We all took a bow – we had no choice.
When the jungle’s king walks proudly through, 
You bow your head — it’s only due.

Leave a comment