Proud Mother

Within this world of wondrous things,
Snow leopards learn to live...
From gentle cubs, as underlings,
To parents, life to give.
To each his own, that's how it goes,
The male and female breed,
Such that new life within her grows,
Until they, too, are freed...

Then all at once those cubs must learn
What life is all about,
And thus, in time, respect to earn,
No longer rules to flout...
They choose to serve within a team,
Survival to ensure,
No matter if through acts extreme
That shake us to the core...

Their mother is their constant guide
And yet their closest friend.
That's why she looks on them with pride
Until the bitter end...
For she's known love and she's known death
And yearns to stay alive...
Until she breathes her final breath,
She'll help them to survive...


Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.

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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Mother's Pride

The lion cubs were all laid low
With heavy heads as proof,
Their golden coats were all aglow,
Yet now not one could move...
For there they were, as most cubs are,
When they've run round and round...
With each one thinking he's the star,
Yet now can't make a sound...

Their mother looked at this each day,
No longer quite surprised,
At first, she glared with some dismay,
Until she realised...
Now interlocked, just breathing in,
Not far from dreamland, friends...
With nothing more to prove or win,
Almost as daytime ends...

Their mother looked as eyelids sagged
Then fluttered for a while,
Then sniggered as their hot feet dragged...
Her memories made her smile...
For she was once as young as these,
Now humbled by the sun
And as she watched them take their ease,
She loved them, every one...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mother's Pride'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Sunlit Family

The wolf cubs looked to see what's what,
Beside the water's edge,
Beneath God's sun that shone so hot,
In service to His pledge,
To shine on all that lived on Earth,
The evil and the good,
So that each one could prove his worth,
Within his neighbourhood...

Those tiny cubs had no defence
Against much larger foes
And Nature offers no pretence
And to no-one it owes...
While wolves are hunters through and through,
They live from meal-to-meal,
To do whatever they must do...
Survival is that real...

And so their mother stood on guard,
As they prepared to drink,
Protectively with one good heart,
No matter what some think...
She's a huntress! She won't give in!
Her family's unique!
Consider her their heroine,
Defender of the weak...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.

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

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

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Family Values

Father And Mother, I Love You!
That spells out F.A.M.I.L.Y.
And God bless if it's oh, so true,
The way that He blessed me!
It's like that painting that I've seen,
Two cubs, one lioness...
On Family Values I'm so keen,
For love brings happiness!

We know that lion cubs aren't tame,
Yet they still fool around!
And everything's to them a game,
No matter what they've found...
The lionesses gather near
To grant a helping hand,
For while their love stays crystal clear,
Who knows what cubs have planned?

When evening comes, they settle down
And peace arrives at last!
Their Mother doesn't wear a frown
Or look at them aghast!
With one eye open, one eye closed,
The cubs are close to sleep...
Why is it now she loves them most?
She doesn't hear a peep...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.


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

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

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White Heritage

White lion cubs are very rare,
Yet how are they to know?
Nobody tells them that we care
And thank God that they grow!
Across the world our children learn
Of creatures on this Earth...
Those lion cubs don't know we yearn
For them to prove their worth...

The little cubs are weak today,
Just fragile balls of fluff...
Yet childhood soon must fly away,
Although this time we love...
Their friendships form strong bonds for life,
To bless each heart and mind...
Togetherness helps them survive,
This truth you'll always find...

We cherish them for what they are...
We wonder what they'll do.
As each one wanders near and far,
Exploring all things new...
Each bears a noble heritage,
As princes of renown.
The future years will form a bridge -
Each king will wear his crown...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.


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

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

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Bush Master

No more the lion cub is he,
Now full grown in his prime
And gone is all timidity
Because this is his time...
Prepared for such a day as this,
His eyes survey the land,
His destiny won't go amiss,
In truth, his life is planned.

This season changes everything,
He walks as if he rules,
As if he were their only king,
Adorned with gold and jewels.
It's true that lions should be feared,
It's true that they are fierce,
Yet openly they are revered
By men and all their peers.

Bush masters live, take life and die,
With cubs to take their place,
Without the need to question why,
As if no shame to face...
If left alone, they may endure
A thousand years or more...
If not, extinction, death for sure,
Gone with one final roar...


Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.

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

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

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Bright Eyes

He really doesn't have a clue,
He's still too young to know!
He does what little lions do,
He's always on the go...
He's scratching backs, he's biting tails!
He's pouncing now and then!
He's challenging the other males!
He wins four out of ten!

His tiny teeth aren't up to much!
His smooth young claws are stubs!
His awesome ears keep him in touch
With antics of the cubs!
He dribbles and he's got no shame!
He's often known to drip...
Though every lion has his fame,
He's hardly cool or hip!

But he'll get better every day
Because he's keen to learn...
That's how great lions find their way,
In time, respect to earn!
One day and his courageous heart
Will grant him everything...
One day, he'll really look the part,
One day, he'll be a king!


Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.


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

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

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Waiting For Mother

Two tiger cubs with swishing tails
With so much still to learn,
As is the case, with all young males,
Awaited Mum's return...
At first, quite calm, no cause to fret,
No cause to sigh for now,
But soon spurred on by their regret,
Each wore a furrowed brow...

'She won't be long! ' they both agreed,
'No, no, not long at all...'
Could soothing comfort words succeed
When neither heard her call?
Impatiently they tapped their feet
And swished their tails again...
With nothing near or far to greet,
What use to count to ten?

'Oh, come on, Mum! ' they growled aloud!
No longer quite serene,
No longer brave, no longer proud,
Just acting being mean!
'This just won't do! ' But suddenly,
She stood there in plain sight!
'Oh, Mum, we missed you! What's for tea? '
How tactful... How polite!


Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Waiting For Mother'.

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

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Doting Parent

The Mother penguin gazed upon
The gift God gave to her
And there they stayed as God's light shone
On all that could occur...
Togetherness now warmed their hearts,
Just like the sun above,
Because that's how all friendship starts...
It's purely based on love...

That's why they stared without a word
Into each other's eyes,
As if God's truth inside them stirred
So that they'd realise...
That love was all we need to give,
Beyond it nothing more,
For it endures the life we live,
So steadfast and so sure...

The winds may blow, the snow may fall,
The storms may rage all day,
Yet when true love makes its first call,
You know it longs to stay...
That's why the little one we see
Will one day share love, too,
With its own child that's yet to be,
Both thinking, 'I love you! '


Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.

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

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

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Mother's Favourite

Of all her cubs, this one was best,
The lioness believed,
When by this one was so impressed,
Asked what could be achieved...
For now, a playful scamp, no more,
Yet eyes alert all day,
Exploring till he knew the score,
Content to know the way...

He wasn't too rough on the rest,
A few chewed tails, that's all,
Yet not too much as if a pest,
So that he'd always brawl...
He lived life well, yet somehow thought
There's so much more than this,
Yet by life now was firmly caught,
For it seemed utter bliss...

The lioness chose to invest
With extra time to share,
At first the others hadn't guessed,
Then they became aware...
'What makes him special, Mummy, dear?
It can't be that he's cute...'
'He's special! Let me make that clear,
You see, he's quite astute! '


Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mother's Favourite'.

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

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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

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Triplets

Depending on your point of view,
If you think they're first rate,
We know what lion cubs can do,
But triplets can be great!
Yes, lion cubs are little tykes!
Three rascals can be fun...
With each cub doing as he likes,
Till he sleeps in the sun...

They're nodding off... plum tuckered out...
Yet they don't want to snooze!
They'd rather pounce and jump about,
With cunning, cruise and bruise...
They'd rather scratch and bite and roar,
Cause chaos for a while...
Than simply, merely, humbly snore...
And lose all sense of style.

The other cubs aren't tired yet,
They slowly bide their time...
For some revenge they'll swiftly get
And won't that feel sublime?
The triplets haven't got a prayer!
They've got to go to sleep!
The other cubs are well aware...
As they, their vigil, keep!


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.


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

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

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Inquisitive

Two tiger cubs were curious,
Inquisitive to boot!
It's true that they looked glorious
And throw in kinda cute!
But woe to those that walked close by
Much smaller than these two...
These cubs were on the prowl, that's why,
And naughty things they'd do!

Yes, naughty things! Without a doubt!
These scamps were rogues at heart!
They weren't adverse to thump and clout
And pull things all apart!
What makes that tick? How does that move?
They'd ask the live-long day,
As if they'd got something to prove,
Like scientists at play...

Inquisitive by day and night,
They drove their parents mad!
They'd pester poor old Mum, too right,
Yet kept clear of their Dad!
'It's just a phase! ', the others said,
'Let's wait a little while...'
Yet secretly they'd go to bed,
Then giggle, smirk and smile...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.


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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Sundowner

The lioness was nestled there,
As grass stalks swayed nearby,
A gentle breeze caressed the air
As if it were a sigh...
Enough to calm the sun that shone
To soothe her as she lay,
Enough such that her cares had gone
Towards the end of day...

Like hers, each human heart needs space,
Each mind some time to chill,
Regardless of what else takes place,
Just motionless and still...
For life can't run at break-neck speed,
So vivid and so real,
For every creature knows the need
To help the body heal...

So learn the lesson, learn it well,
The body needs its rest...
Please choose the chance, stay still a spell,
So that it can be blessed...
Sundowners let their days wind down,
Like vigils meant to keep,
Such that this time melts every frown
Before their beauty sleep...


Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.

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

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

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Innocent

White tiger cubs are harmless guys,
He's got no need to kill...
He's cute and cuddly with blue eyes
That draw you closer still...
His Daddy knows he's innocent,
His Mummy knows it, too...
To everyone, he's just a friend...
He'll be a friend to you...

His Daddy knows he's quite the lad,
His Mummy looks so proud...
His Brother thinks he's not so bad...
He does what he's allowed...
His Sister's way too self-involved
To give him any mind,
Yet she admits he's quite resolved
To leave all cares behind...

His Daddy watches all he does,
His Mummy dotes as well...
His Brother doesn't really fuss,
His Sister, who can tell?
His family! That's all he knows!
With them, he hopes to stay...
He's innocent... until he grows...
But then, WATCH OUT! OK?


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.


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

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

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Ice Babies

Life is a process to be sure,
A journey to express...
Polar bear cubs must first explore
While clothed in Winter dress.
Ice babies wrapped in righteous white,
Their so-called land to roam...
The frozen surface day and night
Is their eternal home...
Each grunt is like a belly laugh,
Yet life is not a farce...
The sun shines down and lights their path -
The moon glows mid the stars...
It's deadly cold and bear cubs need
Their mother's warm embrace
And wisdom helps each life succeed,
Yes, even in this place...
The stars look down on Earth below,
Mere twinkles up above...
They match their mother's eyes that show
Her constant sacred love...
Life is a process to be sure,
A journey to express...
These polar bears learn what life's for...
In sweet togetherness...


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

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

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Mountain Splendour

Snow leopards look at snow all day!
It's here, there, everywhere!
It hardly ever goes away!
It's white beyond compare!
It's dazzling white, it's total white,
It really, really is!
It's safe to say that it's too bright!
It's not something they'd miss...

Snow leopards sit the whole day long
On snow, snow, snow, snow, snow...
It's sometimes nice, don't get me wrong,
But doesn't that stuff glow! ?
It's freezing cold, no good at all...
And bores them all to tears...
They hate it when new snowflakes fall
And tickle both their ears!

Snow leopards wait for food to eat...
They wait, wait, wait, wait, wait...
They take things slow, they tap their feet...
And think life's just great!
They can't hum tunes like humans do...
Remembering each rhyme...
They just sit down, enjoy the view...
And... while... away... the... time...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mountain Splendour II'.

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

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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

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Just Friends

To look at them, you'd be amused,
For two white tiger cubs
No longer yawning or confused
Both used their claws as clubs.
They pounced upon each other's back
Some squeal of pain to make...
And then they'd cut each other slack
As if both on a break...

But pretty soon, they'd start again
And chew each other's tail...
They'd calculate the moment when
To make the other wail...
You'd think that they were enemies!
The way they carried on!
The way they tugged on ears then squeeze
Till every sound had gone...

And yet these two enjoyed their fights,
Their squabbles to and fro,
Their constant contests brought delights,
More than you'll ever know...
But as their brand new day soon ends
Their bashing brawls depart...
That's when they lie there, now just friends
With true love in each heart...


Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.

This is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Just Friends'.

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

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A Mother's Protection

The zebra foal's Mother was wise,
She kept the foal at bay,
So that no other zebra tries
To coax her foal away...
And so they bond the first few days,
Beneath the searing sun
And thus the foal with Mother stays...
Its life has just begun.

Together now and side-by-side,
The two unite with love,
A sight that fills the Lord with pride
As He looks from above...
For love is all that has true worth,
To stand the test of time...
Ask anyone upon this Earth,
They'll tell you it's sublime...

The foal is destined to survive,
If given proper care
And left to live will surely thrive
With Mother standing there...
As decades come, as decades go,
Each zebra roams the land,
Content to see the whole herd grow
The way that God has planned...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'A Mother's Protection'.

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

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