Out Of Reach!

The playful tiger watched the leaves
That fell from yonder tree
And while that nothing yet achieves,
His eyes lit up with glee...
So on his belly he crept close,
For just one leaf to catch,
With whiskers trembling by his nose
At plans he hoped to hatch...

Advancing forward yard-by-yard,
Eyes tilted skyward now,
He squinted, focussing quite hard,
With furrows on his brow...
Though in his mind he saw a bird
For every leaf that fell,
His error hadn't yet occurred,
He simply couldn't tell...

Then suddenly he leapt quite high!
Though somewhat overweight!
Yet out of reach! Oh, my, oh, my!
'That's great! ' he said, 'Just great! '
Opticians can't help tigers, friend!
Just folks like me and you...
They're there to help us comprehend
Our changing point of view...

Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Out Of Reach'.

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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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Forest Tracker

White tigers track the forest floor,
Like this one did one day,
Steadfast and with his tightened jaw,
He went along his way...
Sometimes to pause and listen well,
Then one step at a time,
To catch a glimpse, some sign to tell,
To perpetrate his crime...

The villain of the piece was he,
Of that there was no doubt,
Though just a stroll it seemed to be,
Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!
I wouldn't snap a twig or two,
If I were walking near,
In fact, I think I'd be like you,
Just paralysed with fear!

I'd watch that tiger walking past,
While I stood still unseen...
If he saw me, then I'd run fast,
'Cos tigers can get mean!
For now, he's like some cuddly cat,
Ol' Blue Eyes, all alone...
And yet, please don't be fooled by that,
You see, he's fully grown!


Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.


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

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

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Lazy Bones

That's it! He'd had enough today!
The tiger faced the facts.
He let his body pause and sway
Then flopped down to relax...
His muscles melted suddenly,
No strength within him now
And all his frowns felt fancy free
Upon his droopy brow...

His tensed-up whiskers soon laid low
As tweety birds gave song,
He knew he hadn't far to go,
The call to sleep felt strong...
His eyelids battled for a while,
Still blinking at the sun,
While those that watched him had to smile,
For he was almost done...

Don't think that he was all fatigued
From running to and fro,
Or from exhaustion he had peaked,
The little so-and-so...
He let the others do that stuff!
Such feats filled him with groans...
He'd rather do the things he'd love,
The shameless LAZY BONES!


Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.

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

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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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:
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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

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Winter Repose

A lone Siberian tiger
Was resting on a hill,
All dressed in white and golden fur,
Reclining, oh, so still...
Accepting all that Fate had thrown,
Resigned to come what may...
Yes, there he was all on his own,
Just taking in the day...

He couldn't see a soul for miles
And nothing flew above...
And every day he faced new trials,
He met no-one to love...
The lonely figure looked around
At all his eyes surveyed...
And there, he didn't hear a sound
And so, felt quite dismayed...

Without true love, what have we got?
It's true, God only knows...
We know that it can't be a lot,
Like tigers in repose...
Yet hope abides in tigers, too,
And so they persevere...
Yes, they must do what we must do,
Until true love is here...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2010.


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

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

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Ambusher

There's always one! Yes, that's so true!
That tiger cub's at fault...
There's always one that must outdo
And won't come to a halt!
The ambusher must bide his time,
Just out of sight in wait...
As if to say he's in his prime,
His ambush to create!

The feisty fiend's on tenterhooks,
He's trembling there with glee,
Convinced like other callous crooks,
'There's no-one who sees me! '
For shame, you naughty so and so!
You scamp, you swallywag!
You rotten rogue, you friendless foe,
No longer playing tag...

You're up to no good, that's the truth,
Obsessed in doing harm,
Your staring eyes serve as the proof,
They've lost all sense of calm...
You ambusher! When will you learn
It's best to be a friend?
But friendship's something that you spurn...
Today and till life's end...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2012.


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


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

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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

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Serengeti Evening

The tiger looks a noble sort,
I think that you'd agree.
It doesn't really take much thought,
It's there for all to see.
The tiger smoulders in the sun,
Like marmalade on toast -
His orange stripes so crisply done
To stand out uppermost.
His swishing tail, his piercing eyes,
His rippling muscles, too.
His camouflage meant to disguise,
To do what he must do...
Together, how they all impress -
Both young and old take note.
With tigers, there's no need to guess,
You just look at that coat.
His whiskers twitching up and down
And sometimes left and right.
Each forehead stripe just like a frown,
As if he just took fright.
The tiger looks a noble sort,
Determined through and through!
But sadly, I must now report:
Run fast or he'll catch YOU!


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Serengeti Evening II'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Pillow Talk

When meerkats taunt their predators,
They lounge upon the ground...
As if to say, 'You can't catch us!
We each hear every sound...
And we've got eyes that see for miles,
Each day from east to west...
You'll always see us full of smiles,
As we know we're the best! '

That's why the meerkats feel so close
And cuddle up real tight...
They know it aggravates their foes,
From whom they soon take flight!
'Yeah, bring it on! Come, on, just try!
Just see how far you get!
We're feeling great! We're feeling spry!
We're really not upset! '

The meerkats smirked as meerkats do,
To them, it's one long laugh!
They take the longterm point of view
And don't do things by half...
Together now, they're quite a team,
All cosy lying there...
They're proud to be living the dream,
With sunshine everywhere...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.

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

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

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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

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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

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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:
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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First Adventure

Two tigers traipsed their jungle jaunt,
With nothing else in sight,
The universe itself to taunt
And ready for a fight!
It didn't matter, great or small,
For neither tiger cared,
This was their moment, walking tall,
Their first adventure shared!

So stride for stride they strutted forth,
Exploring, come what may,
Yes, forward east, west, south or north,
Until the end of day...
Together, proud and jubilant,
Triumphant tigers still,
It didn't matter where they went
And, boy, was it a thrill!

Their first adventure, on the prowl,
No Mum and Dad in tow,
With nothing but a mighty growl
As onward they must go!
United, steadfast, confident!
Give them a real wide berth...
If they see you, stay nonchalant
And run for all you're worth!


Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.


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

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

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Three Sentries

They also serve who stand and wait...
And meerkats know this well,
For them, well, life's just great, just great,
As if you couldn't tell.
It's funny that they'll stare and stare
And watch the day go by...
From predators they must beware,
For some can even fly!

Their little noses twitched away
Mid whiskers to and fro...
While they kept poses, come what may,
No matter what the foe!
Like shepherds guarding flocks by night,
They simply stood their ground...
While one looked left and one looked right
And one looked round and round...

Three sentries stood the test of time,
Comparing now and then,
Their loyalty was quite sublime,
Enough to shame some men!
With throbbing tootsies they stood tall,
Defiant, unafraid...
As if each were a sentinel
That God Himself had made...


Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.


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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Staying Cool

'O.K., that's it! ' the tiger said!
He'd simply had enough!
And in a rage, he shook his head,
Yes, things were looking rough!
He'd searched the jungle for that stream
Because he'd lost his way,
So hot, he wandered in a dream
And thus was bound to stray!

Yet suddenly... he smelt wet leaves,
Their scent upon the air
And thus a long, long sigh he heaves,
'At last, I'm almost there! '
Since staying cool was his concern,
That water saved his skin!
The path that led here he must learn,
So he could get back in!

And all at once, he waded past
The leaves that helped him find
This precious Shangri-La at last
That offered peace of mind...
Tense muscles slumped! His body swayed...
The heat was quickly gone...
And motionless, he thus delayed,
Beneath the sun that shone...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.


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

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

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Sudden Movement

The tiger's eye was on it fast!
A sudden movement seen!
Now on his feet, he stood at last,
His mind alert and keen...
His body leapt ten feet ahead
And landed with a crunch!
Of course, the reason that he sped
Was what he hoped was lunch!

The creature that he tracked was close,
Somewhere within the snow...
That's why he sniffed with downward nose
As low as he could go...
The creature stopped, no sound was heard...
A silence met his ears.
Then all at once, the creature stirred
And dashed to join his peers...

The tiger's eye was left and right
And saw the creature run
And all at once, the bird took flight...
And nothing could be done!
The tiger's sigh was long and drawn...
No lunch for him today!
When he laid down, he paused to yawn...
And there he chose to stay...


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

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

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Jungle Apparition

At first, the tiger merely strolls
The jungle paths he knows,
As if he has no plans, no goals,
Till inner hunger grows...
It's then another hunt begins,
It's then he's most alert,
It's then his instincts must convince
That now's the time to hurt...

He stalks new prey, perchance to live,
As carnivores before,
He seeks to steal and not to give,
As if it were a chore...
Yet Nature chooses what must be,
For lions, tigers, bears...
And each must serve his destiny,
His dreams and his nightmares...

He's a ghostly apparition,
His colours help him blur...
He won't find an intermission,
Till things were as they were...
With tricks like these, the tiger strolls,
The jungle paths he knows,
Yet now with plans, yet now with goals,
As inner hunger grows...


Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.


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

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

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