Survivor

Survivor

Black chevrons, his badge of honor;
A survivor and king in his own right,
Sleeps peaceful in the warm sunlight.

His reputation is wrought in our fear.
Born dangerous in the cool of the den;
The camouflage of nature, his friend.

A silent hunter on the forest floor,
in a soft and balmy evening breeze;
under canopy of Oak and Maple leaves.

Head held high in a majestic stance;
Striking a pose that gives us a thrill,
with lightning speed, he's in for the kill.

His numbers fall and we're to blame;
A respected hunter God has made,
hiding in the leaves or dens of shade;

Rarely seen but we know he's there,
a distinctive buzzing his only voice;
fangs and venom, his weapons of choice.

Beware, the Timber Rattler in his forest home;
As you hike the trails of bright sunlight.
Tread not, on the king with the deadly bite!