A mysterious soul
In complete control
Thought to be extinct
But clearly now linked
With sightings
Apparently
This beast could be
Secreted away
Where few people see
Back in the thirties
Hunters were earning
A bounty
And clearly such killings
Were turning this remarkable
Animals into a ghost
Said to be extinct
From coast to coast
Imagine those creatures
Hunted and trapped
They would be trying
Therefore to adapt
To nocturnal living
And staying aloof
Of humans for certain
Who wanted the proof
Unsociableness
A solitary beast
To stay a recluse
Where they were seen least
Sequestered away
Behind a great veil
Of the beaten track
Not leaving a trail
The Tasmanian Tiger
With a dropped lower jaw
Allegedly sucking the blood
And the gore
Out of its victims
A monster for sure
An apex predator
And carnivore
With a very foul smell
One you couldn’t ignore
In the past attacked sheep
With the cleanest of kill
Tore of the nose
And the throat parts at will
In the land of the tree ferns
This beast did frequent
In the tired dried and spent fronds
It went
Cover and protection
Its habitat
Where masses of succulents
Also had lent
Their shade and their wisdom
To others who came
Some of the tallest trees
Clearly their fame
They pushed through the canopy into the sky
In a fern forest often
These creatures would lie
Some 350 sightings we hear
Eye witnesses seeing and being clear
There were no doubts in each if their minds
That the mysterious tigers gave off all the signs
People could feel their presence around
And smell rotten carcasses
Fetid they found
Whistles and growling and hisses and more
Yabbing and grabbing
Such sounds good and raw
They have DNA
They can sequence they feel
And perhaps bring them back
Try to reveal
The greatest wee Tiger
Re create them so we
Can once again realise
That they can be
Its was trapper s and hunters
That stole their limelight
For bounties and sport
For this soul who did bite
Too few of the hunters
And finally they
Were supposedly wiped off the map so to say