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:
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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'.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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A Cool Place
The tiger's paws were very hot
As he stepped on the ground,
Yet he recalled a shady spot
Was nearby to be found...
So off he went in search of peace,
Just one step at a time...
Content that there he'd find release,
A cool place, so sublime...
At last, he reached his gentle rest,
Away from all that glare...
And all at once, he felt quite blessed,
As if without a care...
His tender tootsies throbbed no more,
He splashed his paws about,
The ripples went from shore-to-shore...
A cool place, without doubt...
Then suddenly his body stopped,
Submerged up to his chin,
His tensed-up muscles simply flopped,
To utter joy gave in...
The tiger smiled a winsome smile,
A sigh of sweet relief
And there he rested for a while,
Now cool beyond belief...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'A Cool Place'.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Intrepid
Intrepid tiger, there you are,
Exploring yonder stream,
Each day you've wandered oh so far,
As if life were a dream...
Yet now a cool reality
Surrounds your mortal frame,
Seducing you with ecstasy,
That chills eternal flame...
Your nature isn't quite as strong
Within the water's hold,
As if to say, you don't belong,
With fur so hot, not cold...
Yet there you are, intrepid still,
To claim this next domain,
As if it were an act of will
And just for you to gain...
What creature dares to challenge now?
What creature risks his all?
Before your presence they should bow
And at your feet should fall...
Men cower when they know you're near!
Men gulp and dare not move!
Intrepid one, no need to fear...
You've nothing left to prove!
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Intrepid'.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Cool Dreams
A slippery seal laid on the ice,
Not far from dreams, it's true,
He twitched his whiskers once or twice,
There's not much else to do...
For when sleep comes and yawns begin
And drooping eyelids fall,
It's then you know you just can't win,
You've got no chance at all...
Your neck slumps down, your muscles flop,
Your breathing changes speed,
Until your mind knows it must stop,
For sleep is what you need...
So off you go, you sleepyhead,
You silly so and so...
There's nothing more that should be said,
Sweet dreams as you breathe slow...
You take your time, flat out, like that,
You know you've done your best,
Keep smiling like the Cheshire cat,
You're bound to wake refreshed!
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
Beneath the stars that shine,
Because we know we need sleep soon,
God bless your dreams... and mine...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Dreams'.
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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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Jungle Pool
White tiger, while you roam your realm,
Your body heat must rise,
Until it's bound to overwhelm
And you resort to sighs...
It's then that jungle pool seems good
Enough to melt each frown,
Such that you cross the neighbourhood
Till you can settle down...
And there it is! Your sighs are done!
You tread soft mud once more
And squish this like you're having fun,
As if that's what it's for...
At first, a shiver runs your spine,
Your ribs then feel the thrill,
But soon, my word, you're feeling fine
As splashes rise and spill...
A soothing swim, a gentle glide,
Your whiskers part the waves,
Such that your dark soul's satisfied,
For such as this it craves...
A precious peace, mid Paradise,
'Twixt Heaven and God's Earth,
The jungle pool is oh so nice,
Much more than you deserve!
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Jungle Pool'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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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Homeward Bound
The elephants were homeward bound
And walked as in a dream,
As if their peace were newly-found,
Content to be a team...
Left-right, left-right, they marched as one,
Slow motion, gently paced,
Beneath God's precious golden sun
They travelled without haste...
No point in charging dead ahead,
When patience was the key...
For that would merely lead to dread,
With great uncertainty...
The little ones among the herd,
Must be protected still,
Such that no troubles had occurred,
Here's hoping that none will...
Just look at how they live so long,
Till pensioners at best
And think of how they look so strong
And then you'll be impressed...
Thus homeward bound, the herd moves on,
From day to day to day...
Until, at last, the last mile's gone
And home's the place they'll stay...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Homeward Bound'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Wild At Heart
The lion listened as the breeze
Passed gently on each side
And on the ground he took his ease,
Enjoying all supplied,
As if this hour was a gift,
A time-out if he stayed,
As if to give his heart a lift
As long as he delayed...
Though wild at heart and strong and brave
And fast upon his feet,
He took the gift that God then gave
For peace like this seemed sweet...
A shift from darkness to the light,
Contentment deep within,
Such that for now this time felt right,
Enough to make him grin...
The lion listened, heartbeat slow,
His muscles not so tense,
Beneath the sunshine's gentle glow
With all its dividends...
Then suddenly, he roared aloud,
Reminding us at length,
That he, of course, was mighty proud
And still quite full of strength!
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Wild At Heart'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Full Attention
The tiger took his merry time
Wading in the water...
Why shouldn't he? It felt sublime,
Perfectly in order...
So he went up and he went down
And he went left and right
And though each stripe looked like a frown,
His joy was at its height...
This is the life, he seemed to say,
Nothing else quite like it!
No hurry to be on his way,
In truth, he must admit!
Up to his neck in Shangri-La,
Nirvana, Heaven, peace...
It wasn't likely he'd go far,
When he could take his ease.
Did it have his full attention?
Yes, he felt comfy there...
Had he lost all apprehension?
He didn't have a care!
No point in leaving for a while...
So he felt mighty glad...
If anything can make you smile,
Like him, get stuck in, lad...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Full Attention'.
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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Wading In
The tiger knew that it was time
To wash away his woes,
To gently soften all the grime
That stuck between his toes!
That's why the stream seemed so supreme,
His perfect Shangri-La...
Now wading in, as in a dream,
As if into a spa...
The world felt distant, far away,
The water felt so good...
His problems melted, kept at bay,
Beyond this neighbourhood...
No other tigers shared his pool,
How could he come to harm?
And so he let his body cool
Amid the tranquil calm...
Of course he knew it wouldn't last!
He savoured it for now...
And luckily an hour passed,
That's all God would allow...
So up he got, as if reborn,
Blessed, baptised and renewed...
No more the feline so forlorn,
But full of gratitude...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Wading In II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Thirst Quencher
Both young and old, the zebras came,
To dare to drink again.
Not one of these would know God's Name,
Yet He had sent the rain...
So while the zebras drank their fill,
From empty to the brim,
Not one of these possessed the skill
To offer thanks to Him...
The sizzling sun shone in the sky
Providing heat and light,
Yet none of these could question why
Each owned the gift of sight...
The cool, cool breeze began to blow...
To grant them some relief,
Yet none of these would ever know
True faith or true belief...
Yet there was love within their hearts,
As they stood side-by-side.
This precious gift that never parts,
For conscience is its guide...
While water brings both joy and strife,
Without it, love would end...
May God help zebras to survive,
With water as their friend...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Thirst Quencher'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Golden
'That's it! I'm pooped! ' the lion said,
'I'm just a cub, that's all! '
And so he laid his heavy head
With no more strength to crawl...
'I've done the lot! ' he said with pride,
'I've jumped, I've pounced, I've chewed! '
And having yawned, now bleary-eyed,
He sighed, a worn-out dude...
'I know it's only half-past-three!
But I'm plum-tuckered now!
Did you see my sister chase me?
All I can say is wow!
She's run me ragged all day long,
As if she had it planned!
She bit my tail, that's simply wrong!
She's getting out of hand! '
The lion cub complained again,
'She's safe for now, I know,
But I'll get back at her and then,
I'll teach that so-and-so! '
Then all at once his eyes shut tight,
All golden rules to flout,
In dreams he schemed with all his might,
'I'll sort that missy out! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Golden'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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A Walk In The Sun
The penguins waddled gamely on,
Not one said, 'Boy, we're lost! '
They had the sun to hope upon
And so the ice they crossed!
They first went left a mile or two...
Then waddled to the right...
No fish in sight! What should they do?
They could go on all night!
They turned around, then waddled back,
To where they started from!
The ice was white, but things looked black!
Yet they kept their aplomb...
They huddled close some warmth to keep,
A gentle breeze blew by...
They found some water, oh, so deep!
They heaved a long, long sigh...
They all went crazy running fast!
One mad dash for some fish!
And after dinner, peace at last!
That was their fervent wish!
They all laid down upon the ice,
Their tummies resting there...
To them, this place was Paradise,
While they've got fish to spare...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'A Walk In The Sun'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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