The Polar Bear
The white beast of the arctic circle
Stomping on the iridescent ice
Traveling far and wide across Alaska
Hunting for its next carnivore’s meal
He likes the ocean as cold as it can
Where he lives there is slush, not sand
The beast rest in a cave one starry night
They the sea reflecting the northern lights
Walking along the cold Russian snow
Her fur is transparent, it almost glows
The icy wind is rough and sharp
The bear finally smells some fresh carp
Relaxing after her mighty kill
She hasn’t eaten in a while doesn’t feel ill
Sliding against the ice to find her cubs
Sleeping peacefully in the snowy shrubs
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