Purposeful
The tiger firmly marched his way
Across the swirling stream,
His tail was swishing near the spray
As he looked in a dream...
As if he had one thought in mind,
As hunger stirred his soul,
For any prey that he could find
As he searched on patrol...
If any creatures saw him there,
No doubt that they stood still,
In hopes that he stayed unaware
And blood he wouldn't spill...
Ignore his fur like honeycomb
As sweet as sweet could be,
He marched as if he had no home,
Just one priority...
How purposeful his life has turned
As hunger growls within...
No measely meal could now be spurned,
If he, this war must win...
For him, the struggle to survive
Is something that annoys,
But all must eat to stay alive,
The tiger has no choice...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Purposeful'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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'.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Indian Reflections
The tiger waded further on,
He had some place to go,
Somewhere to be, where sunlight shone,
So bright as if aglow!
Not here, while waters gently stream,
Reflections here and there,
Confusing him, as in some dream,
That caught him unaware...
The river's mud stirred up and swirled,
Reflections came and went,
Such that he strode a worried world,
His time there almost spent...
While bubbles surfaced now and then
To pop and disappear!
Such wonders were beyond his ken,
The kind he needn't fear...
The tiger looked back one last time,
Content that he must leave,
Although at first it felt sublime,
He saw no cause to grieve...
The river would be here next week,
Upon his glad return!
For now, his feet dry land would seek...
His legend he must earn!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Reflections'.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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When I'm Ready!
The tiger climbed his favourite hill
To find his favourite spot,
Somehow that tiger got a thrill,
Up there, though feeling hot...
It wasn't in the shade, that's true,
But, oh, what scenery!
So when, for him, not much to do,
Friends knew where he would be...
'He's off again! ' they'd all observe,
The young 'uns saw him leave,
Some tigers thought, 'He's got a nerve,
We've hardly time to breathe! '
He gave no thought to what they thought,
He wouldn't change his mind!
He was aloof, somewhat self-taught,
In fact, the lonesome kind...
So he stretched out on granite rock,
Content to see the sights...
Why not? He'd never seen a clock,
Especially at these heights...
The hours passed, he stayed flat out,
'Come down, you so-and-so! '
'When I'm ready! ' they heard him shout,
'Till then, I'll stay not go! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'When I'm Ready'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Jungle Prince
Fresh-made prints of the Jungle Prince,
A tiger, to be sure!
The sight of these could well convince
With every new-laid paw...
Perhaps he was a mile away
Or maybe up a tree,
Content to stay, content to lay,
Perhaps in wait for me!
I paused and gulped, a tad distraught...
But just a tad, mind you...
I wasn't scared or overwrought,
But did what I must do...
I stayed subdued yet stayed alert...
I looked both left and right
And to make sure I wasn't hurt,
I ran with all my might!
Then, suddenly, the tiger stood
As if to block my path...
As if he owned the neighbourhood
And thought he'd have a laugh!
He glared at me, I stared at him...
Oh, dear, he did look vexed!
I must have feinted! Things looked grim!
God knows what happened next...
Denis Martindale, copyright, March 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Jungle Prince II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Snow Cat
The tiger stirred from sweet repose
For hunger grew once more...
Despite the cool, cool ice that froze,
The pain began to gnaw...
His eyes now looked with stern intent
At creatures near and far,
Not one of these could be his friend,
For his sharp claws could scar...
He prowled along, with stealth, with guile,
His eyes like black night coals.
His hidden hunger would defile
His soul with evil goals.
He didn't pine for fruit or grass
Like other creatures would...
If he saw them, he'd merely pass
For he sought something good.
To him, that meant some meat to eat
And nothing else seemed right...
For this, he'd chase and he'd compete
With courage and with might!
He looked so sleek, so fit, so firm,
So proud and quite supreme...
Yet he must serve this Winter term
A prisoner to his dream...
The creatures feared him night and day...
They hid when he came close...
To him, they were his meat, his prey...
To them, his life he owes...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Snow Cat'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Jungle Trail
The treacherous tiger tip-toed
Towards the jungle trail...
Obedient to the tigers' code,
He knew he must not fail.
White tigers like to do their best,
As if they were like kings!
Let other creatures stare impressed!
Pathetic underlings!
That's why he walked as if on air,
As if the world were his.
So nonchalant, so debonair -
What more to life than this?
Yet hunger tamed his thoughts for now,
He dined on humble pie...
What future would the Fates allow?
What victim would pass by?
He licked his lips, expectantly!
He sensed new prey was near...
He crouched down low, so none could see,
Then everything was clear!
He pounced like lightning! Head to tail...
A nightmare not a dream!
Triumphant on his jungle trail...
Expert, yet so extreme...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Jungle Trail'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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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poem by Denis Martindale
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In Hot Pursuit
The tiger rested, gently laid,
Now in a placid mood,
Until his belly sighed dismayed
In hopes of some fresh food...
So up he stood and stretched a while,
His hunting ears alert
And gone that tiger's placid smile,
For main course and dessert...
He slowly trod the ground he walked
With one intent in mind,
For his next meal would soon be stalked,
As he sneaked up behind...
The chase was on! He saw his prey!
His coat was now a blur!
His next meal mustn't get away!
No, no! That can't occur!
So like the wind that strikes the earth
With storms of utmost rage,
In hot pursuit his mighty girth
Sped to its fastest stage!
Then in the blinking of an eye,
The dirty deed was done!
To stave off each new starving sigh...
One fed, he heard not one...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'In Hot Pursuit'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Early Spring
The tiger rested on the snow
That early Spring had thawed...
And caused some new snowdrops to flow,
As slowly they were poured...
The tiger knew from years gone by,
The season's signs increased,
When creatures stirred without a sigh
And patience was appeased...
The tiger rested all alone,
Content to take his time,
His heart was still as cold as stone
And lacked all thoughts sublime...
But give him space to dream a while...
Of tigresses' soft paws...
And then you'll see that tiger smile,
As Nature takes its course...
From this day on, the sun would shine
A little more each day...
And each would seek a Valentine
With whom they hoped to stay!
When birds made nests in trees above
And tigers roamed the land,
In search of what's described as love,
As if these things were planned...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Early Spring'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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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poem by Denis Martindale
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With Intent
The lonely leopard forced to find
His next meal now and then,
Walked with intent, with single mind,
With one thought yet again...
To hunt alone, with none to blame
If something should go wrong,
Just basic skills that stayed the same,
That's why he must stay strong...
He passed the time reserving power,
Till his next meal arrived,
Perhaps within this coming hour,
Based on the plans contrived...
His eyes looked left, his eyes looked right,
Surveying all there was,
Perhaps to see something take flight
Then chase or suffer loss...
The lonely leopard sleek and fast
And ruthless, come what may,
Reflected on his solemn past,
The trail of fallen prey...
He lived the life that Nature gave,
To kill yet not repent...
Like predators who daily crave,
He now walked with intent...
Denis Martindale, copyright, May 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'With Intent'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Cool Water
As if cool water called his name,
The tiger had obeyed,
Remaining calm as his first aim,
Thus by cool water laid...
Upon the rocks he flicked his tail
A little less and less,
For beauty spots like this can't fail
To spread some happiness...
The tiger spread his weight around
With tooties to one side,
As if his Shangri-La had found
And here he would abide...
No other creatures dared approach
The growling so-and-so,
Now settled like a real slow coach
Who didn't want to go...
Cool water soothes the savage beast,
That's just the way it is,
Now from the greatest to the least,
Seduced by utter bliss...
Well, good for him! I'll give him time
Before I take my bath...
With patience, it could be sublime
And not my epitaph...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Water'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Lying In Wait
The tiger played the waiting game...
His heartbeat cool and calm.
No doubts, no fears, no guilt, no shame
And no sense of alarm.
For all was still, sublime, serene,
So tranquil and at ease...
Apart from him, so cruel, so mean,
Despite his golden fleece.
The tiger strained his stretched back ears
While hunger caused him grief...
God only knows what noise he hears
Behind his gritted teeth.
The aching burden carried on,
Tormenting deep within,
As hunger's slave, his pride had gone,
Yet he must not give in.
The tiger sneered at such delays
So unpredictable...
And groaned at Nature's wily ways
So unreliable...
But come the evening, all went well,
He'd had his fill once more...
What tragic tales this beast could tell,
So cold in tooth and claw...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lying In Wait II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Mesmeric
White tiger eyes, white tiger eyes,
So mesmeric in blue,
Are they to cut me down to size
So that I might fear you?
Or are they there to gain my trust
That friendship grows and grows?
If so, then why am I nonplussed,
Can't move my legs, feet, toes?
White tiger eyes, white tiger eyes,
If only you would blink!
I'd get a chance to realise!
I'd get a chance to think!
What lessons could you teach my soul?
What blessings for my heart?
Or would you quickly take control
And then tear me apart?
White tiger eyes, white tiger eyes,
What secrets lay behind?
What wonders lay in dark surprise
To captivate my mind?
Despite your gracious majesty,
You're getting on my wick!
First chance I get, I must break free,
Turn tail and scarper quick!
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mesmeric'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Burning Bright
Oh, how brilliant is the legend
In oranges and blacks.
You look and then your breath suspend...
The tiger nothing lacks!
With stripes so strong, so debonair,
So vibrant in the sun!
How dominant, beyond compare,
A vision that can stun!
Take in the stance, the mouth, the teeth,
The claws in paws of gold...
They keep their secrets there beneath,
For they must not be told!
But come the time the tiger stalks
The prey that's dead ahead...
Those claws aren't merely just for walks...
I'm sure you've guessed! Nuff said...
The tiger tempts nobody close,
He growls contempt for all...
For now, he merely strikes a pose,
As if his curtain call...
Endangered species come and go!
His legend's burning bright!
Yet how long for, no man can know...
Please pray again, tonight...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Burning Bright'.
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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