Phantom Of The North!
Behold the Phantom of the North,
The wild, white wolf of old!
His legends nightly going forth
And in hushed tones are told...
Of how he glides across the snow,
Or leaps to touch the sky!
A ghostly figure none should know
And no need asking why...
Behold the Phantom 'twixt the trees,
One second here, then gone!
Of all the forest's fantasies,
There's much to ponder on...
For like a spectre seen at night,
That chills you to the bone,
Be thankful yet, despite the fright,
That he walks on his own!
Behold the Phantom face-to-face!
Stand fast if courage lets,
Or flee far from that awesome place,
As if without regrets...
The Phantom fears no coward soul,
He's seen them run before!
As long as each one knows his role,
He'll howl forevermore!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Phantom Of The North'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
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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Siberian Snow
To some, the snow's a wondrous thing
That casts its magic spell,
Beguiling both the clown and king,
Before it bids farewell...
Yet to the tiger, freezing cold,
It's not held in regard...
For though it's lovely to behold,
It makes his hunting hard.
The snow gets inbetween his toes
And freezes on his coat,
Into his face it blows and blows
And there's no antidote...
It makes his whiskers sensitive
To every single touch!
He's got all this to put up with...
It really is too much!
He bravely bears the cold, cold day...
This to his heart he vowed:
He's found his spot and here he'll stay,
Defiant and so proud!
The snow continued all day long!
That he did not expect...
Yes, even tigers get things wrong!
Their pride completely wrecked!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Siberian Snow'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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In Deepest Shadow
White tigers live until their time,
Yet, uptil then, behold...
For each was born to look sublime,
Like silver, not like gold...
The Bengal tigers aren't like these,
Black stripes against the white...
As if created just to please,
Inspire and delight...
There's such a blessing in their eyes
That stare with topaz blue,
Like tanzanite or pale sapphires
Each time they look at you...
Respect for them just grows and grows,
As if that's meant to be...
Not that you'd want to stand too close,
To gaze on royalty...
Behold the magic that they cast,
In deepest shadow's spell...
As dusk approaches till it's past
And daytime bids farewell...
Beneath the moon, their eyes shine on,
Like beacons in the night!
Until the next day's sun has shone,
Revealing black and white...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'In Deepest Shadow'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
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Contented Mother
Behold the truth in black and white,
Two Pandas truly blessed,
Together, what a wondrous sight,
No wonder we're impressed!
There's the mother, so contented,
As proud as proud can be...
There's the baby there, presented,
For all the world to see!
To think, the mother's lived so long,
Endangered though she is,
Yet now her hopes are oh so strong,
Her heart's now filled with bliss...
Her baby's barely got a clue,
Yet peace seems everywhere,
A tender touch says, 'I love you! '
For true love's in the air!
Yet each father, mother, baby
Needs something to be done!
Each Panda has a destiny,
If Man protects each one...
Consider wildlife charities,
Can you provide support?
The chiefest of all remedies
Is that we spare a thought...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Contented Mother'.
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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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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Comrades
What can be said of wolves as friends,
As comrades, chums or mates,
As each one on his pal depends
And with him celebrates?
Like criminals in cold cahoots,
As callous as they come,
We'll always know them by their fruits,
Yes, all of them, not some...
Yet there they stand, no shame in sight,
No guilt for evil deeds,
Just grins that signal their delight
When either wolf succeeds...
Their partnership was borne of guile,
Now they walk toe-to-toe,
Together for a long, long while,
No matter where they go...
Beware of such as these, beware,
Their hearts are black as coal,
Such that they hunt and fail to care
For any life or soul...
Though they appear like dogs so tame,
They wouldn't hurt a fly,
If you meet them, then you're to blame
If you stand idly by...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Comrades'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
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Son And Heir
A cute-faced cheetah cub rests there,
Oblivious and frail,
He's now a precious son and heir,
A firstborn fragile male...
Just skin and bones and not much more,
Yet as each year goes by,
He'll run so fast upon each paw
You'll think that he can fly!
He'll pick his moments just like those
That race across this land
And sometimes rest as if to pose,
As if to make a stand...
As if to say, he's learnt enough,
He needs no teacher now,
For he's been taught by hate and love
And all the fates allow...
So watch out, world! He bides his time,
One day, he'll rule supreme,
One day, the tallest trees he'll climb,
Though now that's just a dream...
This son and heir will do his best
And not just to survive,
He'll do it just because he's blessed,
To prosper and to thrive...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Son And Heir'.
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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Mountain Sentinel
Upon a cold and humdrum day,
Snow leopards sit alone,
As if to pause, to rest, to stay
Upon their mountain throne...
And so this creature let life pass
Upon his craggy rock,
Where cold snow covered blades of grass,
Their present growth to block...
Time passed so slowly like a dream
As if no place to go,
Mid temperatures now quite extreme
As it began to snow...
The creature sighed and tapped his paw
And flicked his tail again,
But it kept snowing more and more
As he sat there and then...
It was his lot in life, you see,
His portion if you will...
Lord of the mountain, let's agree!
Oh, my, ain't that a thrill?
I'd rather stay as warm as toast,
Cold mountain sentinel...
I'd rather stay at home than boast,
'Behold, I'm Lord of all! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mountain Sentinel'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Arctic Apparition
The white wolf waited wilfully
With what would pass for guile,
So long it seemed eternity
I looked at his profile...
Yet in my quest to photograph
This untamed creature there,
He hardly moved along the path
And seemed content to stare...
Until his prey was seen or heard,
He breathed in and breathed out,
As if a statue, never stirred,
To leave me full of doubt...
But finally, he heard a sound
And like a ghost he flew,
As up he sprang, one single bound,
The hunter through and through...
My camera clicked as he streaked by,
Like lightning left-to-right,
An apparition leaping high
And such an awesome sight...
I have his pictures to this day,
Still mounted on the wall...
'The white wolf hunting for his prey! '
What memories I recall...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Arctic Apparition'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
I found the picture on the Osborne-Allen website:
osborne-allen-dot-co-uk
Search for Stephen Gayford prints.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Savannah Slumber
Sometimes a lioness must sleep
Despite her cubs in-tow,
Into the Land of Nod to creep,
With eyelids hanging low...
And long deep breaths soon come around
To signal her retreat,
Until she hears a purring sound
From one cub small and sweet...
She almost made it! Both eyes closed!
'What now! ? ' she thinks once more,
Yet her young scamp has just imposed,
So how can she ignore?
Can't someone else please help her out?
They look the other way...
Alas, there's not one friend about!
How typical today!
She still pretends she's fast asleep!
But he's a pesky pest!
Despite the fact she's like a heap,
I don't think he's impressed!
So up she gets, left paw, right paw,
Then back legs follow suit...
Now's not the time to sleep and snore!
'Hey, Mum, don't I look cute! ? '
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Savannah Slumber'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Majesty
The white wolf stares at all he sees,
His kingdom to protect
And like all royal majesties,
He, too, commands respect...
So if alone or in a pack,
He does what he must do.
To go without, some food to lack,
That's not his point of view...
The days are cold, the nights are cold,
He must endure them all.
No wonder, then, at night's he's bold,
To howl and fear install.
Condemned to prowl, new meals to find,
He doesn't beg like some.
Such thoughts like these don't come to mind,
Not even for one crumb...
He knows his place upon this Earth,
Beneath the sun and stars
And in his realm, he proves his worth,
Despite the wounds and scars.
For him, there's no sweet home from home,
No comforts meek and mild...
His majesty was born to roam,
To live life in the wild...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Majesty II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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