Drying Off

The tiger's mouth was open wide
When he first saw the stream,
Because he knew what it supplied,
An answer to his dream...
The hot, hot sun was beating down
And sapping all his strength...
Yet there, amid the trees so brown,
Would be some peace at length.

So inward joys soon bubbled up,
Urged on in sweet surprise,
As if he were a week-old cub
So near to Paradise.
The water welcomed what leapt in
With one almighty splash,
With surface circles made to spin
And nearby fish to dash...

An hour passed and he must leave
His Paradise on Earth...
His former life and times retrieve
And show what he was worth.
But first the drying off a while,
So he would look his best,
So he could make the ladies smile
When suitably impressed...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Drying Off'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Afternoon Dip

Yes, the stream sure looked exciting
And pleased the tiger's eyes,
With his memories delighting,
He ran to Paradise!
He squelched his way on soft warm mud
And leapt into the air,
To part the waters with a thud
That made the birdies stare!

'He's back! ' they said in unison...
'We'll never get him out! '
They watched him while he had his fun
As he splashed all about...
'He's acting like a cub again!
Just like he did last week!
You'd never guess that he was ten
And simply past his peak! '

The tiger paused, looked up a spell...
'What's that! ? ' he growled aloud!
The birdies trembled, silence fell...
The tiger felt right proud!
The birdies gulped, as birdies do,
And shut their beaks real tight.
The tiger sniggered for he knew
His power and his might!


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Afternoon Dip'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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One For The Road

The tiger's throat was mighty dry
As he walked to the stream,
With water there in sweet supply,
The answer to his dream...
His thirst would soon be at an end,
This time he would survive,
With water as his lifelong friend
To help him stay alive...

The tiger stooped to take a sip,
The water tasted good
Upon the tongue, upon the lip,
Just like he knew it would...
And all the once, the tiger smiled,
For life was going well
And thus enchanted and beguiled,
He chose to stay a spell...

He waded further on then swam,
With water on all sides,
As if he were a playful lamb,
Supported as he glides...
Such wistful times offset the worst,
A lifetime of regrets...
Beyond his great initial thirst
The tiger soon forgets...


Denis Martindale, copyright, May 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'One For The Road'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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A Walk In The Sun

The penguins waddled gamely on,
Not one said, 'Boy, we're lost! '
They had the sun to hope upon
And so the ice they crossed!
They first went left a mile or two...
Then waddled to the right...
No fish in sight! What should they do?
They could go on all night!

They turned around, then waddled back,
To where they started from!
The ice was white, but things looked black!
Yet they kept their aplomb...
They huddled close some warmth to keep,
A gentle breeze blew by...
They found some water, oh, so deep!
They heaved a long, long sigh...

They all went crazy running fast!
One mad dash for some fish!
And after dinner, peace at last!
That was their fervent wish!
They all laid down upon the ice,
Their tummies resting there...
To them, this place was Paradise,
While they've got fish to spare...


Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'A Walk In The Sun'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Thirsty

The lioness was mighty glad
To drink and slake her thirst,
Or else the sun would drive her mad,
As if the lass were cursed...
Two tiny cubs were tired out
And welcomed such relief,
They all felt joy beyond a doubt,
As if beyond belief...

Each precious sip like nectar soothed
Their parched throats deep within...
As if the Lord had somehow proved
That He would help them win...
Each had their place and purpose, too,
And God esteemed their worth.
So think, what greater point of view
Than God who made this Earth?

He made the lions, tigers, bears,
He made them one-by-one...
He made the Earth, He hears our prayers,
He knows what must be done...
That's why He grants the rain to fall,
The sun to keep us warm...
The water waits for one and all,
Regardless of their form...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Thirsty'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Indian Reflections

The tiger waded further on,
He had some place to go,
Somewhere to be, where sunlight shone,
So bright as if aglow!
Not here, while waters gently stream,
Reflections here and there,
Confusing him, as in some dream,
That caught him unaware...

The river's mud stirred up and swirled,
Reflections came and went,
Such that he strode a worried world,
His time there almost spent...
While bubbles surfaced now and then
To pop and disappear!
Such wonders were beyond his ken,
The kind he needn't fear...

The tiger looked back one last time,
Content that he must leave,
Although at first it felt sublime,
He saw no cause to grieve...
The river would be here next week,
Upon his glad return!
For now, his feet dry land would seek...
His legend he must earn!


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Reflections'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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:
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Jungle Trail

The treacherous tiger tip-toed
Towards the jungle trail...
Obedient to the tigers' code,
He knew he must not fail.
White tigers like to do their best,
As if they were like kings!
Let other creatures stare impressed!
Pathetic underlings!

That's why he walked as if on air,
As if the world were his.
So nonchalant, so debonair -
What more to life than this?
Yet hunger tamed his thoughts for now,
He dined on humble pie...
What future would the Fates allow?
What victim would pass by?

He licked his lips, expectantly!
He sensed new prey was near...
He crouched down low, so none could see,
Then everything was clear!
He pounced like lightning! Head to tail...
A nightmare not a dream!
Triumphant on his jungle trail...
Expert, yet so extreme...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Jungle Trail'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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:
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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:
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Wading In

The tiger knew that it was time
To wash away his woes,
To gently soften all the grime
That stuck between his toes!
That's why the stream seemed so supreme,
His perfect Shangri-La...
Now wading in, as in a dream,
As if into a spa...
The world felt distant, far away,
The water felt so good...
His problems melted, kept at bay,
Beyond this neighbourhood...
No other tigers shared his pool,
How could he come to harm?
And so he let his body cool
Amid the tranquil calm...
Of course he knew it wouldn't last!
He savoured it for now...
And luckily an hour passed,
That's all God would allow...
So up he got, as if reborn,
Blessed, baptised and renewed...
No more the feline so forlorn,
But full of gratitude...


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Wading In II'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Early Spring

The tiger rested on the snow
That early Spring had thawed...
And caused some new snowdrops to flow,
As slowly they were poured...
The tiger knew from years gone by,
The season's signs increased,
When creatures stirred without a sigh
And patience was appeased...

The tiger rested all alone,
Content to take his time,
His heart was still as cold as stone
And lacked all thoughts sublime...
But give him space to dream a while...
Of tigresses' soft paws...
And then you'll see that tiger smile,
As Nature takes its course...

From this day on, the sun would shine
A little more each day...
And each would seek a Valentine
With whom they hoped to stay!
When birds made nests in trees above
And tigers roamed the land,
In search of what's described as love,
As if these things were planned...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Early Spring'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Forest Splendour

White tigers try to keep awake,
Yet keep on dozing off!
So ultra cool, for goodness sake,
They think that others scoff...
Look at him now, he's not that strong,
Sleep's beaten him again!
Plum tuckered out, he can't last long...
Bet he can't count to ten!

White tigers like to do their best...
They show off every day!
They're happy most when they've impressed
And not just thought okay!
The strain soon wears, fatigue comes back
And nobody's immune...
And all at once their muscles slack,
About late afternoon...

This white tiger's now flat out,
All restful, suddenly...
Wondering how that came about -
It's quite a mystery!
He's run around and feasted well...
He's warmed up by the sun...
I think he'll stay there for a spell...
Don't wake him, anyone!


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Forest Splendour'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Treading Water

The tired tiger made his way
Until he found the stream,
The sight of it had made his day,
It truly was supreme...
His whiskers twitched at newborn scents
That stirred within the mud
And yet he felt the recompense
As water cooled his blood...

This is the life! No doubt at all,
Just walking here and there
And further on, the waterfall,
A sight beyond compare...
Just treading water, nothing more,
Content to rest therein,
With oozing mud between each claw,
Enough to make him grin...

The tired tiger gently breathed,
His heartbeat calmed as well,
His shoulder muscles now relieved
As Nature cast its spell...
God makes the sunshine then the rain,
Then streams upon the land,
So tired tigers can't complain
When times like these are planned...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Treading Water'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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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:
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Close Companions

Two tigers rested, both at peace,
No arguments at all,
No disagreements to release,
No sudden need to brawl...
Serenity was in the air,
Tranquillity sublime...
As if they had all day to spare
And yet not waste their time...

They gently breathed the sunshine in,
As if they felt caressed...
No pesky flies, no tails to spin,
Contented and so blessed...
Was this their dreamworld filled with love?
Was this their answered prayer?
If so, perfection proved enough
That they were glad to share...

If only Man had peace like this!
A place to sculpt or paint,
A paradise of precious bliss,
So delicate, so quaint...
Where music lilted lyrically,
Like waterfalls at play...
Like Heaven, where God's majesty
The angels praise each day...


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Close Companions'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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When I'm Ready!

The tiger climbed his favourite hill
To find his favourite spot,
Somehow that tiger got a thrill,
Up there, though feeling hot...
It wasn't in the shade, that's true,
But, oh, what scenery!
So when, for him, not much to do,
Friends knew where he would be...

'He's off again! ' they'd all observe,
The young 'uns saw him leave,
Some tigers thought, 'He's got a nerve,
We've hardly time to breathe! '
He gave no thought to what they thought,
He wouldn't change his mind!
He was aloof, somewhat self-taught,
In fact, the lonesome kind...

So he stretched out on granite rock,
Content to see the sights...
Why not? He'd never seen a clock,
Especially at these heights...
The hours passed, he stayed flat out,
'Come down, you so-and-so! '
'When I'm ready! ' they heard him shout,
'Till then, I'll stay not go! '


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'When I'm Ready'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Intrepid

Intrepid tiger, there you are,
Exploring yonder stream,
Each day you've wandered oh so far,
As if life were a dream...
Yet now a cool reality
Surrounds your mortal frame,
Seducing you with ecstasy,
That chills eternal flame...

Your nature isn't quite as strong
Within the water's hold,
As if to say, you don't belong,
With fur so hot, not cold...
Yet there you are, intrepid still,
To claim this next domain,
As if it were an act of will
And just for you to gain...

What creature dares to challenge now?
What creature risks his all?
Before your presence they should bow
And at your feet should fall...
Men cower when they know you're near!
Men gulp and dare not move!
Intrepid one, no need to fear...
You've nothing left to prove!


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Intrepid'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Snow Wolf

Distinctive markings on his coat
Disguise the snow wolf well,
As if the snow had kissed his throat
So that we couldn't tell...
Yet close up through binoculars,
We see that canine face
And suddenly our memory jars
With warnings we can trace...

This is no gentle friend of Man,
In whom we'd grant our trust,
But rather one we'd choose to ban,
Because we simply must...
Each creature that survives on Earth
Has something new to say...
And wildlife paintings prove their worth
Each time we gaze their way...

He's not a trophy that I'd choose
To grace my hearth and home,
Yet at a painting I'd peruse,
Just like I'd read a poem...
We know he can be terrible
And frightening, night or day...
Yet isn't he quite beautiful?
Majestic in a way...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Snow Wolf'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Purposeful

The tiger firmly marched his way
Across the swirling stream,
His tail was swishing near the spray
As he looked in a dream...
As if he had one thought in mind,
As hunger stirred his soul,
For any prey that he could find
As he searched on patrol...

If any creatures saw him there,
No doubt that they stood still,
In hopes that he stayed unaware
And blood he wouldn't spill...
Ignore his fur like honeycomb
As sweet as sweet could be,
He marched as if he had no home,
Just one priority...

How purposeful his life has turned
As hunger growls within...
No measely meal could now be spurned,
If he, this war must win...
For him, the struggle to survive
Is something that annoys,
But all must eat to stay alive,
The tiger has no choice...


Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Purposeful'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Wild At Heart

The lion listened as the breeze
Passed gently on each side
And on the ground he took his ease,
Enjoying all supplied,
As if this hour was a gift,
A time-out if he stayed,
As if to give his heart a lift
As long as he delayed...

Though wild at heart and strong and brave
And fast upon his feet,
He took the gift that God then gave
For peace like this seemed sweet...
A shift from darkness to the light,
Contentment deep within,
Such that for now this time felt right,
Enough to make him grin...

The lion listened, heartbeat slow,
His muscles not so tense,
Beneath the sunshine's gentle glow
With all its dividends...
Then suddenly, he roared aloud,
Reminding us at length,
That he, of course, was mighty proud
And still quite full of strength!


Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Wild At Heart'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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