Siblings
The cheeky cheetah cubs looked calm,
Until they heard a sound...
Then they looked up, alert to harm,
For dangers to be found.
The world was not a friendly place
Where everything went well.
The cubs stared straight, this truth to face
And nought could break the spell.
Transfixed like statues borne of stone,
As cold as marble now...
They searched for new clues, all alone,
So they'd survive somehow.
Like cuddly kittens, side-by-side,
Their battles must be picked.
Sometimes to fight, sometimes to hide,
Or maybe they'd been tricked...
Breathe easy, lads, the coast is clear...
No need to wear a frown.
You scaredy-cats! No need to fear -
You're safe, so settle down...
Their trembling whiskers twitched away!
Their tails swished to and fro!
Then one long sigh as if to say,
'Well, how were we to know? '
One day must come when they'll stand tall,
Full grown as adult males,
So everyone can hear them call
As they explore new trails.
They'll run like shooting stars above -
Two brothers, siblings still...
United in their lifelong love,
With every hunting skill...
Their common destiny awaits -
Who knows if they'll be blessed?
We only know that God creates...
Yet each must do his best...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Siblings'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cheetah Glow
With those distinctive tear-stained eyes
The cheetah looked around,
With ears alert to realise
Each sudden nearby sound...
In hunting mode, the cheetah sensed
Each second one-by-one,
Alone, aloof and without friends
Beneath the burning sun...
The sizzling light shone down all day,
Upon the cheetah's fur,
To warm its cold heart all the way,
Whatever must occur...
For cheetahs want to stay alive,
Regardless of the cost...
They fight a war so they survive,
Until the war is lost...
This cheetah's stare looked left and right,
For something unaware,
Before the creature's taken flight
On land or in the air...
As fast as cheetah legs can run,
Starvation is the foe,
Beneath the ever-burning sun
That makes the cheetah glow...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cheetah Glow'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Close Comfort
Two cheetah cubs stood unafraid
Together side-by-side,
Thus harmony was well portrayed
And thus personified,
Love's treasure trove, tranquillity,
Too precious to neglect,
Made manifest for all to see,
With mutual respect...
We savour peace while it remains,
Like sunshine from above
That gently warms the dusty plains
As if God smiles with love...
The cheetah cubs breathe in, breathe out
And not much more gets done,
What need have they to run about
Beneath that sizzling sun?
Their hearts beat gently, life goes on,
Contentment overflows...
Their sibling rivalry has gone,
But how long for, who knows?
Yet while peace nestles in each heart
And love indwells each mind,
Tranquillity can thus impart
Good reasons to be kind...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Close Comfort'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Cheetah Haven
The mother cheetah settled there,
With two cubs still in tow.
This was the time to shed her care,
Her tension and her woe.
The cubs looked timid, as did she,
Yet danger wasn't near.
In time, they found serenity
And lost all sense of fear.
Their hearts were beating gently now...
They nestled, sunshine-blessed...
Content to be at peace, somehow,
And thankful for the rest...
Togetherness makes life complete,
A morsel to enjoy...
A portion that makes life more sweet,
If wisdom we employ.
For life deserves a change of mood,
Not busy, draining power.
What creature always hunts for food
With every passing hour?
That's why the cheetahs found this place,
This haven in the sun,
This miracle they could embrace
Until the day was done...
Let others run and swim and fly,
Let others walk or crawl...
The cheetahs watched the day go by,
Spectators of it all.
The cubs were pleased, the day went well,
They must do this again...
This secret they must never tell...
Just visit... now and then...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cheetah Haven'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Brothers
The cheetahs sensed that danger lurked
And so they stood, eyes right!
United here, few foes were shirked,
Why run when you can fight?
Though cheetahs can speed up and dash
Like lightning on the ground,
They knew that sometimes they would crash,
Spin forward, round and round!
If injured, then, how could they win?
So they remained alert...
If challenged, they would not give in,
Although they may get hurt...
To stand and fight is sometimes strong -
Each foe must be assessed!
To stand and fight is sometimes wrong -
Yet each must do his best!
The brothers brooded 'neath the sun -
No panic where to hide...
Not knowing yet what must be done -
Eyes staring side-to-side...
Both lean and mean, with strength to spare!
Defiant heartbeats raced...
Courageous cats beyond compare!
So seldom found when chased...
Yet who could say if they got caught?
Would this day be their end?
They lived their lives as they were taught,
Each had no better friend...
The brothers heard no further noise,
They felt that they were safe...
And though a false alarm annoys,
They found each other brave...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Brothers'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Triple Trouble
Two tiger cubs were laying low,
Until he came along...
Like someone you don't want to know,
Who's always doing wrong!
He cosied up, then he attacked!
He caught them unawares!
The scaredy-cats had to react,
Because they hated scares!
They pounced on him and bit his ears!
They squashed his swishing tail!
Their mother watched her little dears
As each one gave a wail...
Three tiger cubs in one mad fight!
She'd seen it all before...
And though she knew this was her plight,
She soon laid down the law!
The cubs submitted, just like that!
Went quiet... for a while...
The two cubs jumped and made him scat!
And showed they still had guile...
Cub number three, would strike again!
He'd catch them from behind!
He'd find another moment when
Revenge was on his mind!
He licked his tail, his twisted tail,
His poor tail hurt him so...
'Next time! ' he said, ' I must not fail...
I'll match them blow for blow! '
The rogue male never learnt to love...
He learnt to live alone...
He learnt to live life in the rough...
His heart had turned to stone...
Don't be like him! He lost his way!
He thought that he was cool...
Remember always, when you play...
Be kind and never cruel!
If every one would seek the good,
There'd be less pains that sting!
If only siblings understood
What purr-fect peace can bring...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Triple Trouble'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Friends (Intro)
One day, David Attenborough came across some tigers!
And... here, we see, two white tiger cubs...
And... for what it's worth, they can see us as well.
There they are, together, side-by-side,
Seemingly without a care in the world...
And... rightly so, with their parents close by.
For in their eyes, we are the intruders,
Simply because they were here first...
And... who are we to disagree
With their two adult white tigers,
So near, yet, thankfully, so far away?
The day began with a scout around,
With the cubs at each other's tails...
Just friends, yet preparing themselves,
Their eyes firmly set on the future,
The years ahead, the joys and sorrows
Of tomorrows yet to be...
Their tails flicking up high like cobras,
Trying to avoid the next friendly bite...
Sibling rivalry, starting young, starting today,
Perhaps lasting for a few more of their years,
Perhaps no serious disaster to intervene...
Just friends encroaching on each other's space,
Nothing too alarming, just whippersnappers at play.
Not exactly innocent, yet not exactly guilty either.
Just friends, young-at-heart, competitive,
Just tail chewers and chompers having at it...
Watching the day go by, just like little cubs do...
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
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Treasures
White tigers like their privacy,
It keeps their young cubs calm,
There's nothing like tranquillity
To ease off thoughts of harm...
Their blood flows at a gentle pace
In neighbourhoods serene
And pretty soon they like the place,
As if they've always been...
It's no surprise that parents feel
The need for some reprieve,
Some solitude, some time to heal,
Yes, even if it's brief...
Some call these golden moments yet
They're worth much more than that!
It's very hard to purr and fret,
It's true, ask any cat...
White tigers should be left alone,
To wind down, tails at rest,
To find a peace that's rarely known
Is how best to be blessed...
Don't say a word or point your hand,
Just crouch down and observe...
But if they chase us, quickly stand...
And run for all you're worth!
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Treasures'
which is found on gayfordgallery-dot-com
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tenderness
The Summer's heat can calm the soul
Of creatures great and small
And with this comes their self-control
With tenderness for all.
Thus lions walk without remorse,
So close they're side-by-side...
As if they'd lost their callous claws
And conscience was their guide.
At times like these, when peace holds sway
And there's no need to frown,
The alpha male looks not for prey
Or ways to prove his crown...
He merely walks, like sovereigns do,
In courtyards near their homes,
Next to the ones whose love is true
As told in precious poems.
From Nature's plan their cubs proceed,
Born free like royalty,
The lionesses know their need
And sacred destiny...
The cubs bring joyful times of play,
Affection now and then,
Thus lionesses lead the way -
Life's circle turns again...
The Summer's heat grants memories
When life was oh so sweet
And suddenly it brings release
So that the heart's complete...
That's when blessed lions fall in love
And think that life's sublime...
And then they're not so rough and tough
Because it's tenderness time...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Tenderness II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sisters
The lionesses rested there,
Two sisters side-by-side...
Both breathing gently, without care,
Yet their eyes open wide...
The day was long, the air was still,
The sun was warm not hot
And clouds sailed by the distant hill,
While they stayed in their spot...
To some, these were of royal birth,
Princesses and revered.
To others, they possessed no worth
And nothing to be cheered...
Yet for each other, there was love,
Affection day-by-day...
A tenderness that proved enough,
No matter, come what may...
As tiny cubs, they'd fooled around,
Rejoicing playfully...
Receiving every sight and sound,
With thanks they'd been born free...
For them, the training ground must wait
Until another time...
The time was now, their adult state,
When they were in their prime...
Each day, their hunting skills combined
To grant them new success
And having dined, they now reclined,
Both comfy, more or less...
They lived their lives, as lions must,
In order to survive...
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...
Or hunt to stay alive...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sisters'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bookends
Two tiger cubs had claimed a tree
As if it were their own
And guarded it with dignity,
As if they were full-grown!
They glared at those that ventured near,
With stern-stared loathsome looks,
As if they hoped to instil fear,
Like proper gangster crooks!
They arched their backs, their necks held high
With awesome jawsome jowls,
As if to give the evil eye
Backed up with fearsome scowls...
The gruesome twosome joined by oath
To fight with all their strength!
The passersby ignored them both!
Just sauntered by at length...
Two tiger cubs had claimed a tree,
Their castle for the day...
Like bookends in a library,
Determined, all the way...
Each little rebel with a cause,
Defiant to the last!
Their tiny claws inside their paws,
Though harmless, were quite fast...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Bookends'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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King Cheetah
Untamed, he roams the world he owns,
This land of hopes and dreams...
Where every hunting skill he hones
With perfect-timing schemes...
Intelligence beyond the norm,
Instincts that serve as guide...
There's beauty in his face and form
That cannot be denied...
This cheetah's fast as lightning, too.
In seconds, flying fur...
A rocket barely still in view,
From head-to-tail, a blur...
Perhaps that's why I call him king
At everything he does...
He flies like birds upon the wing,
No hassle and no fuss!
To me, he's got an athlete's style,
Trimmed-back, machine-like grace...
He's fit to run that extra mile
For every single chase!
Such speed, of course, is rarely found,
That's why I'm so impressed...
Of all the big cats still around,
This king's one of the best!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'King Cheetah'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stealth
The tiger's tail swished left and right, to signal his concern.
The easy prey was in his sight, if startled, it would turn...
The tiger's whiskers twitched as well, with tension-troubled verve.
He stood transfixed, as in a spell, as if he'd lost his nerve.
By stealth, at first, the hunt began - his wild eyes stared ahead
And step-by-step, he formed his plan, in case his victim fled.
Escape routes noted, here and there, the obstacles nearby...
The times to leap up in the air and for a short time fly...
All his skills and his behaviour meant conscience was denied...
All the odds seemed in his favour. The fates seemed on his side.
He stood alone, no-one to blame, his burden, win or lose...
His heart was stone, his eyes aflame, the moment, his to choose...
The time was near, one minute more, the countdown now in force...
His every heartbeat keeping score, like tremblings in his paws...
What happened next was just a blur... A total pantomime...
All he could do was simply grrr! 'Cos he messed up, big time!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Stealth'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cheetah Vigil
The cheetah vigil first began
When hunters searched for game,
With rifles hanging from each man
Until they each took aim...
Then friends and foes were near to death,
As they fell one-by-one,
Upon the ground to fight for breath,
Before their lives were done...
The sound of guns would spook the birds
That settled in the trees.
The elephants were lost for words,
As death crept by degrees...
The orphaned remnant left behind
Escaped while they had time,
With grief still stirring in each mind
At such a ghastly crime.
What magic would men think of next?
What callous acts would come?
The cheetah paused, looked back perplexed,
Like others feeling numb...
Who gave these men the right to kill
For souvenirs not food?
To stand and fire guns at will
In this calm neighbourhood?
The cheetah sighed with great dismay
That chilled his very soul,
Yet kept his vigil through that day
With utmost self-control...
Tenacity can change the heart,
Turn good folks into bad,
These hunters came and wouldn't part
Till they'd got what was had...
From this day forth, the rules had changed,
The cheetah knew that well...
For now, no peace could be arranged
Within this newborn Hell.
The vigilant may yet survive,
Forewarned with time to hide...
To stay the fastest cat alive
Despite the grief inside...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cheetah Vigil'.
More Stephen Gayford poems:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leopard Sunset
The leopard lingered in the sun
Almost at close of day,
With all its hours almost done
And fast to ebb away...
The leopard let his memories
Remind him now and then,
Because he knew each day must cease
When moonlight shone again.
This day had seen new life, new death,
That's how time passes by...
We understand while we draw breath
Until our final sigh...
The leopard knew his time was near,
Just like the sun above,
Yet leopards are not prone to fear,
That's why they still share love...
His cubs were waiting down below,
As he watched like a king...
To see time like a river flow
To outlive everything...
Some day his cubs would watch in turn,
As their cubs played a while...
With each new day something to learn...
Some joy to raise a smile...
(July 2011/The poem is based on the
magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford
called 'Leopard Sunset'.)
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lazy Day
That's it! I'm pooped! Let's sunbathe here!
Let's crash! Let's slump! Let's flop!
We've got all day, no need to fear!
I think we'd better stop...
My paws are throbbing! Life's not fair!
Your poor Mum's had enough!
The two of you don't seem to care!
Is it too hard to love?
Explore some more? You cheeky cubs!
You're always on the go!
Lie on the floor! Forget your snubs
And just go with the flow...
Behave yourselves, or I'll get cross!
Watch out while I'm asleep...
I know your Dad thinks he's the boss!
Illusions he can keep...
Us lionesses take our time,
One yawn and off we jot,
To find a peaceful place sublime,
A purr-fect resting spot...
So, keep a lookout, there's good boys...
A vigil you must keep...
Don't wake me till you hear... some... noise...
I... need... my... beauty... sleeeeeeeeeeep...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lazy Day'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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