Evening Sun
The white wolf stood and stared a while...
The water soothed his feet.
Perhaps he'd search another mile
For food that he could eat.
The sunshine faded, night approached,
A sudden chill was felt...
The silvered twilight moon encroached
And darkness soon was dealt...
The evening sun bid all farewell,
Its time had come and gone,
Replaced by stars that cast their spell
As moonlight carried on...
The stuff of legends now took hold,
He howled his hunger out...
Who knew what wonders would unfold,
What fears to cause men doubt?
Now all his instincts forced his pace,
For he, too, must survive,
Against all odds, through nights and days,
Perchance to stay alive...
It's true that wolves have wily schemes
To brave the midnight storm,
Yet pet dogs dream their pampered dreams,
In comfort, calm and warm...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Evening Sun'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Night Watchman
The leopard's eyes scanned left and right,
As sunshine faded fast,
For soon would come the moon and night,
When one more day had past
And eyes must now be on alert
With instincts borne to bear,
In case there was a need to spurt,
Escaping fast elsewhere...
The leopard's eyes were cooling down
As twilight gathered close,
As clear blue skies turn somewhat brown
And brilliant sunshine goes...
The air has felt a sudden chill
That creatures know full well...
The moon ascends on yonder hill
And casts its silver spell...
The leopard's eyes observe the scene,
The scene he's seen before,
The coming of the in-between,
The timing ever sure...
Night watchman, waiting, instincts taut,
Aware of everything,
Avoiding dangers as he ought,
That's how he's stayed the king...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Night Watchman II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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African Sunset
As the sun was setting slowly,
The lion settled down...
Forewarned, majestic and holy,
Adorned in golden brown...
Without a qualm, without a care,
At peace with all he knew,
Just calmly breathing in the air
Beneath the sky so blue...
The hot, hot sun had soothed his mind,
All signs of rage had gone
And as it left the day behind,
The moon must carry on...
Night creatures stirred within the soil,
Yet few would sense his power...
Nor think of him that he was royal
And over them he'd tower...
The birds approached him without fear,
They knew that he was old...
They taunted him as they drew near,
Delighting to be bold...
The sunset of his life was now,
When midnight comes to call...
He bore no frown upon his brow...
You see, he'd done it all...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'African Sunset'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Lying In Wait
The tiger played the waiting game...
His heartbeat cool and calm.
No doubts, no fears, no guilt, no shame
And no sense of alarm.
For all was still, sublime, serene,
So tranquil and at ease...
Apart from him, so cruel, so mean,
Despite his golden fleece.
The tiger strained his stretched back ears
While hunger caused him grief...
God only knows what noise he hears
Behind his gritted teeth.
The aching burden carried on,
Tormenting deep within,
As hunger's slave, his pride had gone,
Yet he must not give in.
The tiger sneered at such delays
So unpredictable...
And groaned at Nature's wily ways
So unreliable...
But come the evening, all went well,
He'd had his fill once more...
What tragic tales this beast could tell,
So cold in tooth and claw...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lying In Wait II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Evening Drinks
The elephants had made their way
To where the water was,
The mother and her calf to stay
Until their time to cross...
And only then, when all seemed well,
Some evening drinks to share,
God's miracle was there to tell
That He had heard their prayer...
Another feast of simple things
That made their lives worthwhile,
Before the evening dark night brings
God's moon above in style...
Mid fading light and softening heat,
The calf felt precious peace,
The kind that comes when life's complete
And wonders never cease...
The mother's heart was filled with joy,
A tear came to her eye...
And love like that none should destroy,
No need to question why...
Just evening drinks, tranquillity,
Unspoken heart-filled awe,
Good company and harmony...
Now who could ask for more?
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Evening Drinks'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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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poem by Denis Martindale
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Arctic Sun II
The white wolf danced at break of day
With sunshine beating down,
Upon the snow to melt away
Old Mother Nature's gown...
The hunting hadn't gone so well,
But Spring was in the air!
Good riddance to cold Winter's spell
And to its sad despair...
Roll on the lengthening of hours
That sunshine would impart
And precious strengthening of powers
That stirred within his heart!
Begone the biting storms and winds!
Let gentle breezes blow!
Be glad, all creatures! Now begins
The seasons waters flow!
The white wolf danced with utmost glee!
Goodbye to loneliness!
And so he frolicked, fancy free,
His new hopes to caress!
And as he danced on yonder hill,
I danced right there and then!
He stared amazed to see such skill
And howled and danced again!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Arctic Sun II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Lobo
Not one wolf here on Earth forgives
When his next meal gets lost...
The moon shines down on each that lives
Regardless of the cost...
The lobo's hunger must remain,
As if to drive him wild,
As if to drive him quite insane,
Such that his soul's defiled...
As he looks now, he looks serene,
Quite calm and self-composed,
But this is just the in-between,
No victim's death to boast...
I know he looks so beautiful,
Beguiling in a way...
But sometimes wolves can be so cruel...
With others easy prey...
Behold the wolf that stares ahead,
His features so distinct,
Without a single trace of dread,
Awareness interlinked...
With eyes that focus here and there
And ears than scan for sound,
This lobo's up for any dare,
While food's somewhere around...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lobo'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Lords Of The Arctic
Two snow wolves stayed on pure white snow,
Like two rocks side-by-side...
As if they had no home to go,
No warm place to abide...
Yet heat can't feed the wolves by day
Or nurture them by night,
That's why the wolves must hunt for prey,
Before their food takes flight.
Two wolves await what God allows
To cross their paths once more...
For now, the hungry wolves must browse,
No movement to ignore...
No sound can stir without their ears
Locating that new source,
For even wild wolves have their fears,
As Nature takes its course.
Lords of the Arctic, yes, indeed...
Survivors striving still,
Their hunger pangs help them succeed,
We know they always will.
For who seeks hunger for a friend?
Or thirst that aches within?
That's why, the hunt can never end,
While they've got hope to win...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lords Of The Arctic'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Winter Finery
The lone wolf stared upon the hill,
Upbeat, for all to see,
As if to watch him was a thrill
In Winter finery,
With coat so thick, it kept him warm,
Against the Winter wind,
So he survived the swirling storm
And simply howled and grinned...
The other creatures weren't so blessed,
With gritted teeth, no smiles
And jealous that he was well dressed
With strength to run for miles...
Life isn't fair to one and all
And yet who could they blame?
They merely stared and watched snow fall...
So random without aim...
The wolf would last the Winter through,
Just one day at a time,
By doing what he had to do,
Though some think that's a crime...
Survival tactics, hunting skills,
Tenfold tenacity,
No conscience anytime he kills...
There, my friends, the pity...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Winter Finery'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Hunter's Moon
Beneath the silver-speckled moon,
That floated like the clouds,
The wild wolf smiled, for he would soon
Dispel all nearby crowds.
For he could howl, upon his hill,
Enough to chill your bones,
Enough to make a brave man ill
And fill his throat with groans...
This wily wolf could howl all night!
He sat still unafraid...
He grinned from ear-to-ear all right,
Then what a noise he made!
All ears for miles were tuned in now!
He sniggered, then he paused...
With one huge breath, he howled and how!
And, oh, what fear that caused!
Then three quick howls to pile it on!
Then silence, just for fun...
And just when folks had thought he'd gone,
He proved he wasn't done!
Beneath the hunter's moon above,
His body shook with glee...
He howled as they screamed, 'Lay it off! '
'You can't get rid of me! '
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Hunter's Moon'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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White Haven
Even white tigers have to bathe
Though they're as white as snow,
That's why an hour they will save
For streams that overflow...
On winsome days, when winds are calm
And sunlight shines above,
White tigers will not hunt or harm
While their hearts beat with love...
The waters let white tigers chill
Like little lambs at play..
A haven here that can instill
A reason to delay...
Life isn't always running round
So frantic in the sun,
Sometimes the simple things astound,
When nothing much gets done.
This was that time, when time relaxed,
When tiny sounds were heard...
When muscles were no longer taxed
And all white tigers purred...
Who knows how long these cats survive?
This century? No more?
Be glad today that they're alive...
For no-one can be sure...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Haven'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Little Jewel
Lioness cub, you look so cool,
Despite the hot sunshine.
Lioness cub, you little jewel,
So calm as you recline...
You take your ease! Yes, settle there...
You've not got much to do...
And if you did, you wouldn't care.
You'd rest the whole day through.
Can't blame you, though! It's flaming hot!
It's something I can't stand!
That's why I'm rooted to the spot...
Let others puff and pant!
Today's the day I'll take it slow...
Like you, I'll take my time...
There's no point being on the go...
Stay still... it's not a crime.
They say that lions are born free,
So who am I to scoff?
Do you feel guilty, just like me?
I've tried to shake it off...
But, no, you're right. Let's both relax...
No need to play the fool...
Let's lie flat out, upon our backs,
Like you... you little jewel...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Little Jewel'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Watchers
Two wily wolves were waiting there
For something new to see,
Beyond investing time to stare
At endless scenery...
It didn't matter, his or hers,
Full stomachs now were gone
And deep within, where hunger stirs,
Reminders rumbled on...
Familiar thoughts had thus returned
To haunt them once again,
Recalling lessons both had learned
Which helped them now and then.
They licked their lips like hunters do,
Though nothing was in sight,
Yet sensing there was something new
About to get a fright!
The watchers chose their lucky spot,
Their waiting game to play...
Four starving eyes checked every dot
That flew or walked their way...
At last, their next meal sauntered by,
Quite calm and fancy free...
And since he had no wings to fly,
The rest is history...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Watchers'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Winter Sun
His weary eyes were everywhere,
To track each tiny sound,
The hungry wolf beyond his lair
Trod softly on the ground.
For somewhere near or somewhere far
His next meal had to be.
If not, no midnight, moon or star
His weary eyes would see...
His stomach churned each step he took,
Yet Death was patient still...
His jaws were like an open book,
As he surveyed the hill.
How many hills had he climbed now?
A dozen, maybe more,
With all past strength God could allow
He fought the final war...
His prey escaped a sudden death...
His loss and yet their gain...
Life is a journey, breath by breath,
His offspring to remain...
He couldn't find a single crumb
Of comfort for this phase.
He didn't know his time had come...
This was the end of days...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Winter Sun'.
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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Born Leader
Amid the pack, a cub was born
And each wolf watched him grow,
From fragile creature so forlorn
Beneath the moonlight glow...
Yet in the dark nights, courage burned,
White hot to overflow...
Such that their doubts he overturned,
Their scorn to overthrow...
Be wary of this wolf, they thought,
For he's like none before,
In every single battle fought,
He proved he knew the score...
With dominant tenacity,
Cold Winters to endure,
He stood supreme, with dignity,
With strength none could ignore...
To him, survival was the key,
Refusing to be bossed,
With no way out and no mercy,
As if his soul were lost...
Behold his features so distinct,
A wolf not to be crossed,
For destiny and he were linked,
No matter what the cost...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Born Leader'.
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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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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