Golden Glow

Amid the golden glow he gazed,
His golden mane aflame,
A mighty lion, highly praised,
Deserving of his fame,
Triumphant in his claims to power,
Majestic to a fault
And when I saw him in that hour,
My search came to a halt...

My camera caught his royal stare,
His glory at that time,
His dignity beyond compare,
So handsome, so sublime...
As conqueror by tooth and claw,
I thought, how could he fail?
Perhaps he'd live ten years or more,
This wondrous alpha male...

To think, he stood there all at ease,
As if there were no harm,
As if he earned some right to peace,
To breathe without a qualm...
Yet he must fight to stay the king,
Each challenge overthrow,
That's why I stood there wondering...
Amid the golden glow...


Denis Martindale, copyright, May 2012.


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

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

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My Hero

The lion cub was mighty proud
As he stared up above
And heard his father roar so loud,
For he was truly tough!
Adorned with wondrous golden mane
That circled like a ring
With all his coat like golden grain
And every inch a king...

The lion cub looked at his jaw,
Like granite, chiselled stone,
Commanding solemn silent awe,
For he was fully grown...
Yet there he stayed, composed, serene,
As if the world was his.
The alpha male, the sovereign,
No greater dream than this...

The lion cub would grow in time...
His father knew it well.
Their destiny was so sublime,
It caused his heart to swell.
That's why he let the cub stay close,
To learn what must be done...
For who knows all the lion knows,
How best to love his son?


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.

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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Arrogance

The lion king posed quietly
Without a single roar,
As if the whole wide world to see,
So they could shout encore!
With arrogance and more to spare,
The lion drew a crowd,
His golden mane a halo there,
No touching was allowed...

Just like the Sphinx, he looked sublime,
A hero through and through,
Yet haughtiness is such a crime,
Yet this was all he knew...
His challengers were forced to run
To save them from their fears,
So many battles had been won,
He left a trail of tears...

No challenge left, he merely posed,
For now he lacked all friends,
His solemn stare as if to boast,
This legend never ends...
But old age came and slowed him down,
His eyes now weak and frail..
And suddenly he lost his crown...
No more the Alpha Male...


Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.


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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Sheer Class

The regal lion's earnt his fame
As sovereign lord and more,
His golden fur as if aflame,
His gaze forever sure...
His stature none could dare improve,
For his is quite renowned...
His eyes aware of every move,
His ears of every sound...

Aristocratic... every day...
As if the world were his...
As if all others must obey,
Or things would be amiss...
Behold the king, for such is he,
Behold the noble grace,
Behold the royal majesty
That shines upon his face...

The many battles he has fought
Were won beyond all doubt,
His challengers have come to nought,
Retreated, turned about...
Alone, he is the alpha male,
Of this, no need to guess...
How come he makes all others pale?
Sheer class, no more, no less...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.

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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Regal

Within that blaze of golden frame
The regal lion glared,
For everybody knew his name
And everybody stared...
For there he was, in majesty,
Their sovereign king and more,
The master of their destiny,
Of that you can be sure...

He held their very lives at hand,
One bite could bring a halt..
It's true, in stature, he looked grand,
Yet ruthless to a fault.
Those eyes had seen each war he'd won,
Each battle as it raged..
Though now, beneath that gentle sun,
His wrath seemed somehow caged...

Behold this awesome mighty beast,
His handsome lion face,
Kings claim the most and not the least,
The lion's share embrace,
You may be strong, you may succeed,
Your will may never bend!
But while he's king and king indeed,
Beware, take care, my friend...


Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.


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

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

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The Old Campaigner

The lion king had lived life well,
Fought battles and he'd won
And now he paused to rest a spell,
To muse on all he'd done.
Inflicting wounds on lesser foes,
Reminding them who's boss,
Yes, face-to-face and nose-to-nose,
Yet never facing loss...

To these, he was the alpha male,
The lion king and more,
The lion who could never fail
To settle every score.
To these, he was the champion,
As if he were ordained,
The one they were relying on
Because of all he'd gained...

The old campaigner stood his ground,
Defiant to the last,
The lion king who was self-crowned,
Whose life had almost past...
But while he strode his sovereign land,
He ruled with just a stare...
For who would challenge one so grand,
Whose stature said, 'Beware! '?


Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.

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

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

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Handsome Beast

The tiger stood his ground one day,
Like posers often do,
To let the others have their say,
Express their point of view...
To stare at him, with jealousy,
Each time his fame increased,
While tigresses looked longingly,
'He's such a handsome beast! '

The tiger stayed still, like a king,
As if the world were his,
While all the rest were wondering
What magic spell is this?
As if they watched him mesmerised,
Fixated and so pleased,
While tigresses all realised,
'He's such a handsome beast! '

Of course, the magic couldn't last,
That's life, we all move on...
Endangered species leave so fast,
They're here... and then they're gone...
For now, he's truly in his prime!
The foremost not the least...
While tigresses think he's sublime,
'He's such a handsome beast! '


Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.

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

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

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African Radiance

Behold the lion's golden mane,
His stature and his stance,
As if he stalks through golden grain,
A vision to entrance...
Such poise, such grace, such confidence,
Such priceless majesty,
Such wondrous, thunderous elegance,
Such precious sovereignty...

Behold the lion's state of mind,
Without one trace of love,
As if he'd left that far behind
When times were getting tough...
His mane was gold, his heart was black,
Just outer radiance...
The hunt was on, no turning back,
No change of sentiments...

Behold the lion's sombre stare,
Fixated on his prey...
As if no mercy left to spare,
Regardless night or day...
He looks determined, without doubt,
As if the end is nigh,
As if his prey had no way out,
No time to wonder why...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.

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

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

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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com

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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

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Golden

'That's it! I'm pooped! ' the lion said,
'I'm just a cub, that's all! '
And so he laid his heavy head
With no more strength to crawl...
'I've done the lot! ' he said with pride,
'I've jumped, I've pounced, I've chewed! '
And having yawned, now bleary-eyed,
He sighed, a worn-out dude...

'I know it's only half-past-three!
But I'm plum-tuckered now!
Did you see my sister chase me?
All I can say is wow!
She's run me ragged all day long,
As if she had it planned!
She bit my tail, that's simply wrong!
She's getting out of hand! '

The lion cub complained again,
'She's safe for now, I know,
But I'll get back at her and then,
I'll teach that so-and-so! '
Then all at once his eyes shut tight,
All golden rules to flout,
In dreams he schemed with all his might,
'I'll sort that missy out! '

Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.


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

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

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Indian Gold

This tiger's stripes resemble gold,
In all its finery,
They're truly wondrous to behold...
What awesome majesty!
He strides across the land that's his,
With swaggers, to and fro...
At ease, exuding perfect bliss,
He puts on quite a show!
Let others cower from his stare
That twinkles golden bright...
He's not like those caught unaware
Before their final fight!
No quiet, humdrum life for him!
He's earnt his stripes, indeed!
His life is filled up to the brim
With wisdom to succeed...
As long as he stays number one
And he's the alpha male,
Then you can bet, he's having fun
With stories to regale...
In time, he'll father many more,
With gold stripes of their own...
Perhaps that's what God made him for
And why he's so well-known...


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

The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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Lord And Lady

The lion and his lioness
Surveyed their great domain,
For such was theirs by great prowess,
Come sunshine or come rain...
As long as they fought as a team,
Their conquests seemed assured,
It was as if they lived their dream,
This lady and her lord...

Togetherness can change each life,
With trust the golden key,
Surpassing joy, surviving strife,
Surprising you and me...
Without this trust no teamwork wins,
It's crucial day-by-day,
It's how each hour on Earth begins,
If wisdom's meant to stay...

The lord and lady know their place,
Like royalty they rule,
They walk with dignity and grace,
They can be kind or cruel...
They raise their young so life goes on,
Replacing them in time...
But while they're here, until they're gone,
They simply look sublime...


Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lord And Lady'.

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

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The Sublime

The leopard left his sleep behind,
Arose and walked around
And with that walk his waking mind
Was glad at what he found...
The sun was shining in the sky,
A wondrous breeze drew near
And yet not once did he ask why
Such blessings should appear...

And yet this world is so sublime,
In every single part
And blessed are they that spend their time
In painting perfect art...
Think of all creatures... great and small...
That artists sit and paint,
Yet Stephen Gayford, he stands tall,
To some, he is a saint...

He captures insights when on tour,
He gets each detail done
And then he thrills us to the core
And shares his sense of fun...
From meerkats to the giant cats,
Fantastic dolphins, too!
He paints them like aristocrats...
Sublime... each time... for you...

Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.


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

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

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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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Partners

The lion and the lioness,
Together, side-by-side,
Like a Duke next to his Duchess,
Surveying all with pride...
To them, this land was all they had
Beneath the stars above,
Except for all the joys they had,
Like others who'd found love...

As partners now, the world was theirs,
As long as each would live,
As long as they preserved their shares
And had so much to give...
No longer living selfishly,
As each one played their part
Towards their greater destiny
That beats in each rare heart...

They stood as one, they thought as one,
With wisdom now defined,
For this is how it must be done,
United, heart and mind...
The lion and the lioness,
Together, as a team
And so majestic, I confess,
Together, they're supreme...

Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2012.


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

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

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Golden Silhouette

The tiger met my stare that day,
Two hunters full of life,
Two species searching for their prey,
Each seeking to survive...
And as I stared into his eyes
While he was on patrol,
I slowly came to realise
That he stared at my soul...

He knew we shared a common bond,
With courage day and night,
That fought each battle and beyond
Against all foes in sight...
Yet he and I weren't enemies,
Although we weren't close friends,
Somehow we sensed a solemn peace,
The kind that rarely ends...

While co-existence yet remains,
We knew each had a share
And to this day, he roams the plains,
As if without a care...
Each has his purpose on this Earth
And how could I forget
His strength, his grace, his noble worth,
His golden silhouette?


Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.


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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Snow Tigers

The tigers nestled in the snow,
Oblivious to cold,
Content within the twilight glow,
So wondrous to behold...
With light enough to take their ease,
Before the night set in
And grant the cubs a sense of peace
Among their kith and kin...

United in their Shangri-La,
The royal family
Reflected how they'd come so far,
This very night to see...
The stars a distant twisting scroll,
The moon a crescent curl,
A single cloud out on patrol,
A pale white circling pearl...

With tigers' eyes as witnesses
As if to testify,
There was joy in all God blesses
On Earth and in the sky...
Snow tigers felt this joy inside
With every heartbeat made.
If they could roam the whole world wide,
Their joy would never fade...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.


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

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

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Sentry Duty

The mighty meerkat made his stand,
No matter, come what may,
As if to say, 'Talk to the hand!
You'd best be on your way! '
With no regard for his own life,
He boldly stood his ground,
Against each foe who would arrive
He gives his warning sound!

On sentry duty, so to speak,
His eyes looked everywhere,
His ears alert to every creak
That crossed the very air...
His whiskers twitching now and then,
His every nerve on edge...
His instincts tuned beyond our ken
As he stood on that ledge...

The mighty meerkat! What a guy!
One of the chosen few!
Both feeling good and feeling spry!
A hero through and through!
Content to do his very best!
Content to bide his time...
He's there to see his friends stay blessed...
He's utterly sublime...

Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.


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

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

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Guardians Of The Den

Behold the untamed meerkats there
Now side-by-side on guard,
As if the whole wide world to dare,
As if all else were barred...
Each stare's just meant to make it clear,
'Clear off, the lot of you!
There's no-one here who wants you here!
So you know what to do! '

Bravado's such a wondrous thing
In ones as small as these,
As if to leave us wondering,
Can they do as they please?
For each one's a tiny meerkat
And not that tall in height!
So who are they, to make us scat,
To scarper left and right?

To you and I, they're not that strong,
Courageous, yes, but weak,
To fight with them would just seem wrong,
Their faces look so meek...
Let's let them be all they can be,
Just visit now and then,
So we can come back soon to see
The guardians of the den...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Guardians Of The Den'.

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

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Cheetah Glow

With those distinctive tear-stained eyes
The cheetah looked around,
With ears alert to realise
Each sudden nearby sound...
In hunting mode, the cheetah sensed
Each second one-by-one,
Alone, aloof and without friends
Beneath the burning sun...

The sizzling light shone down all day,
Upon the cheetah's fur,
To warm its cold heart all the way,
Whatever must occur...
For cheetahs want to stay alive,
Regardless of the cost...
They fight a war so they survive,
Until the war is lost...

This cheetah's stare looked left and right,
For something unaware,
Before the creature's taken flight
On land or in the air...
As fast as cheetah legs can run,
Starvation is the foe,
Beneath the ever-burning sun
That makes the cheetah glow...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.


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

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

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