Cute
The tiger cub rests on his own,
All scrubbed up, looking cute...
His lifestyle you may not condone,
When he hunts meat not fruit...
Yet doesn't he look stunning there
With fur refined like gold?
As if he didn't have a care,
A sweet sight to behold?
Admit it, aren't you somewhat drawn
To study him at length?
No longer quite so full of scorn
When thinking of his strength?
He's not the average pussycat
That whimpers soft meows...
Nor does he seem to be a brat
While he lies there to browse...
But give him time, for he must grow,
In length and height and weight,
No more the little so-and-so
You either love or hate...
Is it so hard to comprehend
What Nature makes him do?
He'll not look quite as cute, my friend,
When he starts chasing you!
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cute'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale

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Heavyweights
Each rhino stands a bulky beast,
My word, they sure stand out!
They start off big, then they're increased,
Then spread their weight about...
Yes, heavyweights, that's how it is!
Their strength self-evident...
To them, their weight seems not amiss,
That's just the way it went!
The rhino's horn is his defence,
It's like an afterthought...
Against the ones who aren't his friends,
So that he won't get caught...
And at forty miles an hour,
Well, you try matching that!
Who can comprehend his power?
With one foot he'd squash you flat...
No wonder that he eats a lot,
So he can run at length...
He's fat, yet doesn't care one jot,
He must keep up his strength!
Well, I'm glad I'm not a rhino,
As bulky as can be...
'Cos I'm quite thin in fact and so
I'm happy being me!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Heavyweights'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Son And Heir
A cute-faced cheetah cub rests there,
Oblivious and frail,
He's now a precious son and heir,
A firstborn fragile male...
Just skin and bones and not much more,
Yet as each year goes by,
He'll run so fast upon each paw
You'll think that he can fly!
He'll pick his moments just like those
That race across this land
And sometimes rest as if to pose,
As if to make a stand...
As if to say, he's learnt enough,
He needs no teacher now,
For he's been taught by hate and love
And all the fates allow...
So watch out, world! He bides his time,
One day, he'll rule supreme,
One day, the tallest trees he'll climb,
Though now that's just a dream...
This son and heir will do his best
And not just to survive,
He'll do it just because he's blessed,
To prosper and to thrive...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Son And Heir'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Innocent
White tiger cubs are harmless guys,
He's got no need to kill...
He's cute and cuddly with blue eyes
That draw you closer still...
His Daddy knows he's innocent,
His Mummy knows it, too...
To everyone, he's just a friend...
He'll be a friend to you...
His Daddy knows he's quite the lad,
His Mummy looks so proud...
His Brother thinks he's not so bad...
He does what he's allowed...
His Sister's way too self-involved
To give him any mind,
Yet she admits he's quite resolved
To leave all cares behind...
His Daddy watches all he does,
His Mummy dotes as well...
His Brother doesn't really fuss,
His Sister, who can tell?
His family! That's all he knows!
With them, he hopes to stay...
He's innocent... until he grows...
But then, WATCH OUT! OK?
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Innocent'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale

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Full Attention
The tiger took his merry time
Wading in the water...
Why shouldn't he? It felt sublime,
Perfectly in order...
So he went up and he went down
And he went left and right
And though each stripe looked like a frown,
His joy was at its height...
This is the life, he seemed to say,
Nothing else quite like it!
No hurry to be on his way,
In truth, he must admit!
Up to his neck in Shangri-La,
Nirvana, Heaven, peace...
It wasn't likely he'd go far,
When he could take his ease.
Did it have his full attention?
Yes, he felt comfy there...
Had he lost all apprehension?
He didn't have a care!
No point in leaving for a while...
So he felt mighty glad...
If anything can make you smile,
Like him, get stuck in, lad...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Full Attention'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Danger
The lion lowered length-to-length,
With danger on his mind
And so he girded all his strength,
His purpose now defined...
His crinkled wrinkled brow felt tight,
His eyes glared to and fro,
Against each danger he must fight
And overcome each foe...
Survival was his only thought,
Adrenalin, his friend,
He'd either catch or he'd be caught,
To win or meet his end...
The sun above had seen it all,
Yet did not stir to save,
Why would it care if he should fall
Or fight so fierce and brave?
The lion's courage made him stay,
He didn't turn and run,
He didn't whimper like a stray
Unhelped by anyone...
His heart was beating oh so fast!
Then suddenly he leapt!
He lived with scars that never passed,
Yet his one life he kept...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Danger'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Doting Parent
The Mother penguin gazed upon
The gift God gave to her
And there they stayed as God's light shone
On all that could occur...
Togetherness now warmed their hearts,
Just like the sun above,
Because that's how all friendship starts...
It's purely based on love...
That's why they stared without a word
Into each other's eyes,
As if God's truth inside them stirred
So that they'd realise...
That love was all we need to give,
Beyond it nothing more,
For it endures the life we live,
So steadfast and so sure...
The winds may blow, the snow may fall,
The storms may rage all day,
Yet when true love makes its first call,
You know it longs to stay...
That's why the little one we see
Will one day share love, too,
With its own child that's yet to be,
Both thinking, 'I love you! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Doting Parent'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Savannah Slumber
Sometimes a lioness must sleep
Despite her cubs in-tow,
Into the Land of Nod to creep,
With eyelids hanging low...
And long deep breaths soon come around
To signal her retreat,
Until she hears a purring sound
From one cub small and sweet...
She almost made it! Both eyes closed!
'What now! ? ' she thinks once more,
Yet her young scamp has just imposed,
So how can she ignore?
Can't someone else please help her out?
They look the other way...
Alas, there's not one friend about!
How typical today!
She still pretends she's fast asleep!
But he's a pesky pest!
Despite the fact she's like a heap,
I don't think he's impressed!
So up she gets, left paw, right paw,
Then back legs follow suit...
Now's not the time to sleep and snore!
'Hey, Mum, don't I look cute! ? '
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Savannah Slumber'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale

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Mother's Favourite
Of all her cubs, this one was best,
The lioness believed,
When by this one was so impressed,
Asked what could be achieved...
For now, a playful scamp, no more,
Yet eyes alert all day,
Exploring till he knew the score,
Content to know the way...
He wasn't too rough on the rest,
A few chewed tails, that's all,
Yet not too much as if a pest,
So that he'd always brawl...
He lived life well, yet somehow thought
There's so much more than this,
Yet by life now was firmly caught,
For it seemed utter bliss...
The lioness chose to invest
With extra time to share,
At first the others hadn't guessed,
Then they became aware...
'What makes him special, Mummy, dear?
It can't be that he's cute...'
'He's special! Let me make that clear,
You see, he's quite astute! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mother's Favourite'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Indian Adolescent
The Bengal tiger cub looked fine,
On top form for his age,
Maturing like the finest wine
And not locked in a cage...
As free as birds that fly the sky,
As wily as the rest,
As fast as those that seem so spry,
The tiger cub looked blessed.
Consider everything you know,
Of all the creatures seen,
His fur looks like it's all aglow,
Magnificent, serene...
He's on the prowl, for who knows what?
No longer playing games...
And now he'll give it all he's got,
With newly-focused aims...
He's confident that he must win,
He's steadfast through and through...
So valiant he'll not give in,
He'll do what he must do.
His eyes are like two worlds apart,
Together they're a team...
Yet driven by that tiger's heart,
Who knows what dreams they'll dream?
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Adolescent'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Sun Worship
Three little meerkats looked ahead
At different angles then
There was no sudden awful threat
That was beyond their ken...
Each held their gaze transfixed in time,
Like statues frozen still...
And though at first this looks sublime,
It soon must lose its thrill.
The only thing that they see move
The whole length of the day
Is that old sun that seeks to soothe
Their frayed nerves come what may...
That little circle in the sky
That glides and glides and glides...
I bet it makes them question why
At night it goes and hides...
They worship what they hold most dear -
It helps them to survive!
It helps each smile from ear-to-ear,
So glad to be alive...
Next day the circle's back again!
The meerkats look above...
Their Grandad smirks and nods and then
Each looks at it with love...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sun Worship II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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The Attack
The tiger knew each second counts
As he went on the prowl...
Split-second timing for that pounce
Or else he'll pause to scowl...
Success or failure, win or lose,
Eat well or starve today,
That's why the moment he must choose
As he hunts for his prey.
He climbed up trees to scout the land,
He lied in silent wait,
He thought ahead with schemes well planned
So he could celebrate...
But he must play the waiting game...
While starving in the sun,
Or else he'll have himself to blame
When this long day was done.
I watched him through binoculars,
Aware of what could be,
While I chewed on some chocolate bars,
The tiger stared at me...
Let Nature take its course, I said...
So safe within my jeep.
That day, another victim bled...
Before he went to sleep...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Attack'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Bookends
Two tiger cubs had claimed a tree
As if it were their own
And guarded it with dignity,
As if they were full-grown!
They glared at those that ventured near,
With stern-stared loathsome looks,
As if they hoped to instil fear,
Like proper gangster crooks!
They arched their backs, their necks held high
With awesome jawsome jowls,
As if to give the evil eye
Backed up with fearsome scowls...
The gruesome twosome joined by oath
To fight with all their strength!
The passersby ignored them both!
Just sauntered by at length...
Two tiger cubs had claimed a tree,
Their castle for the day...
Like bookends in a library,
Determined, all the way...
Each little rebel with a cause,
Defiant to the last!
Their tiny claws inside their paws,
Though harmless, were quite fast...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Bookends'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Watching You
The Royal Tiger was acclaimed
Across the whole world wide
And in great pictures he'd been framed,
With genius and pride...
Distinctive stature has its charm,
Amid the ancient trails
And Man protects him from all harm,
For true love never fails...
Endangered species can't express
Their every daily need
And whether tiger, or tigress,
We know each one must feed...
As long as we've got some control,
Some stewardship at least,
Each Man must look inside his soul,
For beauty and the beast...
That's why the bold white tiger stood,
His old blue eyes aglow,
About to do what tigers should
When hunger starts to grow...
And so the hunt was on again,
For creatures great and small,
Perhaps to feast, survive and then
Be feared by one and all...
Denis Martindale, copyright April 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Watching You'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Inquisitive
Two tiger cubs were curious,
Inquisitive to boot!
It's true that they looked glorious
And throw in kinda cute!
But woe to those that walked close by
Much smaller than these two...
These cubs were on the prowl, that's why,
And naughty things they'd do!
Yes, naughty things! Without a doubt!
These scamps were rogues at heart!
They weren't adverse to thump and clout
And pull things all apart!
What makes that tick? How does that move?
They'd ask the live-long day,
As if they'd got something to prove,
Like scientists at play...
Inquisitive by day and night,
They drove their parents mad!
They'd pester poor old Mum, too right,
Yet kept clear of their Dad!
'It's just a phase! ', the others said,
'Let's wait a little while...'
Yet secretly they'd go to bed,
Then giggle, smirk and smile...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Inquisitive II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Dignified
The wolf watched everything in sight
While he heard every sound,
For soon he'd run with all his might
Across the unturned ground...
No farmer ploughed across this land,
The wolf was on his own,
No creature there to understand
His hunger that had grown...
So there he stayed before his crime,
As if quite dignified,
So statuesque, so cute, sublime,
Yet starving deep inside...
Of course, he'd done this all before...
That's how he still survived,
But, oh, my goodness, what a chore,
Till his next meal arrived...
He licked his lips, let out a sigh,
Then breathed in long and slow...
For all day long beneath God's sky,
He stayed, nowhere to go...
But that wise wolf survived again,
Another moon to see...
That's why we'll hear him howl again,
All night, till half-past-three...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Dignified'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Himalayan Spirit
Snow leopard, you've got pointed ears!
My word, don't they stand out?
They're oh so cute, the little dears,
With small hairs all about.
And aren't your whiskers dainty things?
I bet they make you itch...
So fine like stretched out steel-like springs
And ready-primed to twitch...
I like your nicely turned-up nose!
It looks so pink and brown,
So all attention swiftly goes
From wrinkle and from frown...
Your lips are quite unmissable!
You almost seem to smile...
Your lips are almost kissable,
In fact, they quite beguile...
I daren't look into your eyes!
You're so fast on your feet...
To keep my distance seems so wise,
Because I'm mostly meat!
You Himalayan spirit, dear,
Who knows, we could be friends!
But you stay there and I'll stay here
Until our meeting ends...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Himalayan Spirit'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Wolf Trail
How gingerly the wolf leg hangs,
Now poised there in mid-air...
As he fights back the hunger pangs
That could lead to despair.
Each gulp reminds him of his pain,
Each footstep costs him time...
Yet on the trail he hunts again,
No longer in his prime.
He thinks about the coming feast,
If luck is on his side.
If Nature serves the starving beast
With some new soul supplied...
For him to live, another won't,
That's just the way it is...
Today wolves hunt, while others don't.
Will his plans go amiss?
The hunt went well, at least for him...
His victim breathes no more.
The wolf survives, his chances slim...
Somehow he must endure.
He leaves no legacy behind
Beneath God's sun so bright...
Yet seeks no pity from Mankind,
No prayers from us at night...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Wolf Trail'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Burning Bright
Oh, how brilliant is the legend
In oranges and blacks.
You look and then your breath suspend...
The tiger nothing lacks!
With stripes so strong, so debonair,
So vibrant in the sun!
How dominant, beyond compare,
A vision that can stun!
Take in the stance, the mouth, the teeth,
The claws in paws of gold...
They keep their secrets there beneath,
For they must not be told!
But come the time the tiger stalks
The prey that's dead ahead...
Those claws aren't merely just for walks...
I'm sure you've guessed! Nuff said...
The tiger tempts nobody close,
He growls contempt for all...
For now, he merely strikes a pose,
As if his curtain call...
Endangered species come and go!
His legend's burning bright!
Yet how long for, no man can know...
Please pray again, tonight...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Burning Bright'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Tranquillity
Behold the dolphins interweaved
Like soulmates bathed in love
And see how gently each has breathed
From precious air above...
And there to glide in aqua haze,
In God's tranquillity,
Content to spend their nights and days
Where God meant them to be...
Exploring here, exploring there,
As if a Mystery Tour,
To look on sights beyond compare
Upon the ocean floor...
To celebrate this thing called life
That God bestows with grace,
The dolphins strive, against all strife...
And swim at their own pace...
God asks no more of such as these,
They serve their purpose well,
Yet Man must work, then take his ease
And simply rest a spell...
So meditate, when peace allows,
Like dolphins in the sea...
As if to seize the time to browse
For sweet tranquillity...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Tranquillity'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Cool Water
As if cool water called his name,
The tiger had obeyed,
Remaining calm as his first aim,
Thus by cool water laid...
Upon the rocks he flicked his tail
A little less and less,
For beauty spots like this can't fail
To spread some happiness...
The tiger spread his weight around
With tooties to one side,
As if his Shangri-La had found
And here he would abide...
No other creatures dared approach
The growling so-and-so,
Now settled like a real slow coach
Who didn't want to go...
Cool water soothes the savage beast,
That's just the way it is,
Now from the greatest to the least,
Seduced by utter bliss...
Well, good for him! I'll give him time
Before I take my bath...
With patience, it could be sublime
And not my epitaph...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Water'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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