By Carol Lee DialloInternational Community School of

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

In The Jungles of South America

There was a time.When man ate meat raw,

And Jaguars had fire.

Man had no weapon-To protect himself from the claws of,The jaguar.

Who scratches and bites,We felt his wrath at that time,

In the Jungles of South America.

A lone traveler,hungry,cold,

Human.

Hunts an animal- but never succeeds.Prowling jaguar,

Spots him.And invites the wanderer into his:

darkened den for dinner.

In the jaguar’s earthen home,

The fire crackles,sparks,

flares,Then whispers in jaguar’s presence.

The guest watched-entranced,By the warming flames,And by the delicious scent of sizzling meat.

A scent which makes the stomachs of both animal and man,

rumble.

Belly full,Jaguar explained his master tools.

How to shoot using a bow,How to position the arrow,

How to start a fire.

A wicked thought,Crept into man’s head.

Why not take the bow,Arrow,And fire?

Steal away the fire, bow, and arrow,

Into the night.

Jaguar’s eyes gleamed with rage.Seek revenge,

he thought,Make man curse the day,

he stole from me.

So today.

BEWARE

Because the jaguar has not forgotten the power,he once had.And the last sight you may see:

Are, two gold,

eyes,shining like fire,in the jungles,

of South America.