High And Mighty
The lion lives another day
And soon it will be night.
He doesn't care, for come what may,
He taught himself to fight.
His jaws spring open! Hear him roar!
'Beware! ' he says, 'Beware! '
High and mighty in tooth and claw,
To claim the lion's share!
Stand clear, if you love life at all!
Stand clear and let him pass!
The lion's strength helps us recall,
He's in a different class...
God gave him claws, God gave him teeth,
God gave him hunting skills.
Let others stare in disbelief,
As savagely he kills.
His thoughts are his, his actions, too.
Let others dare to judge.
Let each one hold his point of view...
From his, he will not budge.
High and mighty and taking pride
In all that he surveys.
In all the dangers he defied
And conquered nights and days.
To weather storms and yet survive...
To hunt before death strikes...
To drink again, when rains arrive...
To wander as he likes...
To live and love the mate he chose,
New life to carry on...
For even life comes to a close
And he, too, will be gone.
For now, he stares on his domain,
Its sovereign, lord and king...
His like will never come again
In any living thing...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'High And Mighty'.
poem by Denis Martindale

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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
poem by Denis Martindale

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The King
Sometimes a lion likes to pose,
To show off now and then...
You see, he's learnt to fight his foes
And knows he's feared by men...
He's seen them run like little girls
And trying not to fall!
It doesn't matter, lords or earls,
He knows he's king of all!
Sometimes a lion likes to stare,
As if he's deep in thought...
Or simply just to say beware,
'You may get caught for sport! '
He can't ignore the way he acts,
Pretend he's like a lamb...
He knows the whole world's learnt the facts...
'Yes, that is how I am...'
Sometimes a lion likes to smirk,
Like victors often do...
When sad defeated lions lurk,
That smirk says, 'I beat you! '
No need to growl, no need to roar...
No need to run for miles...
One grin, that's all it takes, no more...
A lion rarely smiles...
Sometimes a lion likes to flirt,
The ladies to impress...
It's then he plays the extrovert,
In search of happiness!
Imagine him... his lady fair...
A twinkle in his eye...
The King needs tender loving care...
It's time to say goodbye...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The King'.
poem by Denis Martindale

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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
poem by Denis Martindale

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White Lord
The pure white lion chose his spot,
Content that it would do
And there he didn't move a lot,
He just enjoyed the view.
To him, this was another day,
No worries on his mind
And so he let time pass away,
Slow breathing to unwind.
The years had taught him how to live
And if to walk or run
The time to take, the time to give,
The battles to be won.
Of course, by now, the heat was strong,
So why not have a rest?
No point in running all day long,
For who would be impressed?
The white lord in the sky above
Was just like him below,
When that old sun had shone enough,
It gave the moon a go.
Let lion cubs run left and right!
Let lion cubs climb trees!
For now, it was his prime delight
To nestle on his knees.
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Lord'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Father Figure
The lion cub thought life was good,
While at his father's side.
Protected in this neighbourhood,
A member of the pride.
A social group of relatives,
Where each one plays their part -
Each makes mistakes and each forgives,
While love lives in the heart...
The father figure led the way -
He set the mood for all.
It didn't matter, night or day -
They listened to his call.
His mighty roar was heard for miles,
On land and air above...
Yet silent were his lion smiles
That helped him show his love.
The cub tugged on his father's tail
Then jumped upon his back...
Without a thought that love would fail
Or that he'd ever lack...
This was their way, to take their ease,
To nestle in the sun...
Father and son, both blessed by peace,
As if this must be done...
When wisdom splits the lion's share,
Then others, too, can eat.
If not, then let the weak beware,
As others feast on meat.
Humanity learns lessons, too...
It turns away from war...
Then gentle folk, like me and you,
Can help to feed the poor...
When wisdom leads to clarity,
We open up our eyes
And then donate to charity,
So one more soul survives...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Father Figure'.
More Gayford poems on denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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King Of Kings
Behold the son of royal birth,
Aligned by blood, no less,
To ancient kings who proved their worth
And ones God chose to bless.
Consider all that history
Has taught us through the years,
Each miracle, each mystery,
The laughter and the tears...
Consider how each king is raised
From birth to adulthood...
As if like diamonds, well appraised,
Superior not just good...
Reflect on posture that's portrayed
To signify his throne...
That tells you he must be obeyed,
For he is king alone...
Remember all his mighty power,
His strength and bravery.
For he is king and you should cower
At all there is to see.
That majesty, that dignity,
That stare that meets your eyes...
Should grant your soul some clarity
And help you realise...
That here he is, the king of kings...
Perhaps your friend or foe...
In either case, his underlings...
What more is there to know?
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'King Of Kings'.
While this poem is about the lion painting,
the poem is written without any reference
to the lion at all. That's because of the
Christian symbolism of Jesus, the Son of God,
whose royal ancestors meant that He was
called the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.
The poem ends with the realisation for each soul.
Are you a friend or a foe to the King of Kings?
More Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Regal Pair
The lion and the lioness
Posed like a regal pair,
So noble that they both impress,
So dashing, debonair...
So stately and so statuesque,
Each blessed to be born free,
So quite correct and picturesque
With awesome majesty...
Their eyes are like black diamonds there,
In circles made of gold
And who knows what those eyes could share,
If secrets should be told?
Yet those eyes see much more than land,
Their kingdom they survey
And their domain is mighty grand,
Protected night and day...
So have a care, don't wander near,
Don't think they welcome friends,
Don't stand too close, you'll shake with fear,
Perhaps with no defence...
Binoculars may have to do,
If you must stop and stare...
To tell the truth, I can't blame you...
They're such a regal pair...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Regal Pair'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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His Highness
To some, he stands a fiercesome beast,
Ferocious like a storm...
To some, he stands a royal priest,
With holy heart so warm...
This lion leads the way ahead
That others dare not go...
Yes, he has stood where few would tread,
How else to overthrow?
This lion lingers for a while
So everyone can see
Behind that smirk, behind that smile,
There's awesome majesty!
This lion is no easy mark,
No victim for the prey...
His passions need no match to spark
To stir him on his way!
This lion leaps ten feet and more,
With great agility...
To make you tremble to the core
At your fragility!
This lion rules his vast domain,
Without your sage advice!
Outlasting sorrow, pleasure, pain,
In truth, he's paid the price!
What have you done that could compare
With conquests that he's known?
This lion's earnt the lion's share...
It's his and his alone...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'His Highness'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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African Monarch
Come, feast your eyes on royalty!
The Lion King and more!
As if God granted some decree
That all observe his law...
For who could doubt the lion lives
As sovereign lord of all?
His one loud roar as proof he gives!
Who can withstand that call?
It causes bravery to crack
And fears are swiftly stirred!
It sends a shiver down your back
The first time that it's heard!
All through his youth, he trains and trains,
Like one in search of prey...
To see him run across the plains
Would take your breath away!
I'd rather stroke a pussycat
Than cuddle close to him...
For if I got as close as that,
I'd be a dead pilgrim!
While it's true, some folks would quibble,
With one called royalty...
To keep a wide berth's sensible...
Quite logical to me...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'African Monarch'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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The Lion King
Two lions fought beneath the sun...
Their teeth as sharp as nails
And when their fight was truly done,
One lion tipped the scales.
The other lion fled the scene
And no more would return.
Though savage, wounded, no more keen
The mightier to learn.
The undefeated lion stood
And watched the loser leave.
He didn't think himself as good
And yet he didn't grieve.
This was their way for centuries,
Their ancient remedy.
Their battles for supremecies
Would end each mystery.
They'd never choose alternatives,
Their code they'd never flout.
No matter if one dies, one lives...
They'd fight to end the doubt.
Thus courage burns within their veins...
Volcanoes borne of rage.
Only the winner truly gains
The right to centre stage.
In truth, the winner takes it all.
The loser has no pride.
Although once mighty, doomed to fall,
Then to be cast aside.
Two lions fought beneath the sun...
For them, it was too late,
For soon, there'd only be the one
Who'd live to celebrate.
Each battle scar that's brought to mind,
Reminds him of this day...
The courage he was forced to find...
The price he had to pay...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Lion King'.
poem by Denis Martindale

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Edge Of The Night
The lion lurks as daylight dims
Still draped with golden mane,
Subservient now to hunter's whims
From which he won't refrain.
For hunger grows from deep within,
His life is on the line
And so his hunting must begin,
With cold skills to refine...
His eyes adjust to black night views,
His ears hear near and far...
No tiny meal could he refuse,
No creature could he bar...
The darkness hangs there like a shroud,
Engulfing all below...
The only light God has allowed
Is moonlight still aglow...
Its moonshine lends night victims hope,
The chance to run and hide,
The chance to flee, survive and cope
With fear, eyes open wide...
The lion's strong, the lion's fast,
Determined to succeed,
That's why before this night has passed,
He'll feast through stealth and speed...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Edge Of The Night'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Mean Ole Lion
(charlie smalls)
Say what you wanna
But i'm here to stay
'cause i'm a mean ole lion
You can go where you're gonna
But don't get in my way
I'm a mean ole lion
You'll be standing in a draft
If you don't hear me laugh
And if you happen to come around
Well, you best not make me frown
For i just might knock you down
I'm a mean ole lion
You know i'm ready to fight
And turn your day into night
'cause i'm a mean ole lion
If you're half bright
You'll detour to the right
From a mean ole lion
All you strangers better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if i happen to let you slide
Don't just stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
Look,
You better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if i happen to let you slide
Don't stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
I'm a mean ole lion
song performed by by Diana Ross

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(I'm A) Mean Ole Lion
(Charlie Smalls)
Say what you wanna
But I'm here to stay
'Cause I'm a mean ole lion
You can go where you're gonna
But don't get in my way
I'm a mean ole lion
You'll be standing in a draft
If you don't hear me laugh
And if you happen to come around
Well, you best not make me frown
For I just might knock you down
I'm a mean ole lion
You know I'm ready to fight
And turn your day into night
'Cause I'm a mean ole lion
If you're half bright
You'll detour to the right
From a mean ole lion
All you strangers better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if I happen to let you slide
Don't just stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
Look,
You better beware
This is the king of the jungle here
And if I happen to let you slide
Don't stand here
Run and hide
You just caught my better side
I'm a mean ole lion
I'm a mean ole lion
song performed by by Diana Ross

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aristocrat
Behold the lion, the noble cat,
Defiant all day long.
The perfect, great aristocrat,
Majestic and so strong.
Profound provider for the pride,
Tenacious and extreme.
A fierce some creature! Run and hide!
Don't stare as in a dream!
Adorned, he stands, with golden mane,
So regal and refined!
Up close, he snarls with bold disdain!
Why should he fear Mankind?
Perhaps you've studied in College
And learnt a thing or two...
Survival skills give him the edge...
He'll get the best of you!
Yes, courage is his middle name,
His bravery's well-known,
Each eye is like a fiery flame,
Each tooth is hard as stone.
Each claw extends as tension grows,
As instincts change his mood!
It's then the lion truly knows,
It's time to hunt for food...
Like him, I think I'll stay alert...
I think he'd understand
That I won't risk my getting hurt...
I'll never shake his hand!
I won't approach and stroke his fur
Or pat him on the head...
The only thing that would occur,
Is that I'd end up dead!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Aristocrat'.
poem by Denis Martindale

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Lion Cub
To study him, as he was now,
You'd think that he looked swell.
This lion cub with wrinkled brow
Was known to cast a spell...
Your first impressions are misled,
For he's no gentle soul...
Just tired out, with weary head,
Till he regains control...
Once back on form, he's set to pounce!
He's on all fours again!
As if on springs, he'll leap and bounce
Before he counts to ten!
This little jewel is known to prowl
And ambush suddenly...
He even makes his Mother growl,
While Dad stares solemnly...
But does he care, displaying shame?
Does he observe their rules?
They've never known him to be tame!
He treats them all as fools!
But one day soon, he'll stand and fight,
No matter what this brings!
Yes, one day soon, with all his might,
He'll join the lion kings!
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lion Cub'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Were I A Lion King
Were I a lion king of the pride how proud a lion I'd be
To think that other lions for miles around are very scared of me
In the stillness of the African night I would roar aggressively
I would not be kind to other lions or in ways act neighbourly
Of the prey the lionesses did kill I would be first to eat
The other members of the pride would have to wait for their share of the meat
The male lion who has compassion will never rule a pride
Of any honour in his life by his attitude self denied
If I were a lion king of the pride the lionesses for me would kill the prey
But if's an obstacle that always does get in the way
Human beings need some aggression in life for to succeed
The timid like the timid lion are not destined to lead
Were I a lion king in the African night I'd give a mighty roar
That would be heard by other lions for two miles distant or more.
poem by Francis Duggan

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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
poem by Denis Martindale

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Battle Scars
The lion's eyes looked dead ahead,
No smile or smirk in sight,
Just sending out a sense of dread
That others may take flight...
Why fight if you can run away?
Escape the pain and strife...
Born free to see another day,
Another day of life...
The lion's mouth concealed his teeth,
Small daggers every one,
So sharp they'd cause you instant grief
Before the battle's won...
And 'neath his dainty-looking paws,
So gentle, silky-soft,
He hid his vicious callous claws
In wait for those who scoffed...
It's true that he had battle scars,
Yet he had learnt his trade,
No longer thinking it a farce,
A game that lions played...
One lion wins, it can't be two...
One lion takes the prize!
That's why he'll do what he must do...
Look deep into his eyes....
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Battle Scars'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Lookout Rock
The Timber Wolf's a wary beast,
As cautious as can be
And this young wolf was mighty pleased
At all that he could see...
His lookout rock gave him full view
Of front, back, left and right,
Conserving strength helped him get through,
That suited him just right...
Not many humans could survive
The coldness in the air,
Fur coats are fine, but who can thrive
With coldness everywhere?
Sometimes the days are twilight times,
The sun's a distant friend,
It's then each wolf more wisely climbs,
Its safety to defend...
The Timber Wolf endures it all,
It lives from day-to-day
And few ignore its mountain call,
Although most stay away...
But those who see it roaming wild,
Stand still and stare direct,
As if by beauty they're beguiled
And show it some respect...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lookout Rock'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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