A manticore i see;
i think it is a she.
It's going to the ocean;
because of the commotion.
It had soft orage fur;
yet i could hear it's purr.
It had a human face;
so i sped up my pace.
I heard a trumpet blow;
it's red teeth it did show.
And then i knew no more;
about the manticore.

A poem sent by Nancy Christian