A Polar Bear’s First Love

Spiders creeping on my white fur?
No, but a superficial tickly sensation,
Her arms and her thighs I prefer,
Something is racing, is that emotion?
I walk slowly and then I start to run,
I growl passionately for no reason,
I have to say something, maybe a pun,
Is this what they call a mating season?
The lightbulb sparks over my head,
And as a scientist I develop a hypothesis,
Love is but a series of emotions on thread,
And another male is definitely my nemesis.

Thursday, 30thof July 2015
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