Sun Kissed
The chilled dark night had passed away
And daylight came with dawn,
Fresh warmth was born and chose to stay
And blessed a brand new morn...
Upon the craggy rock he climbed,
One white wolf, all alone...
And there he stayed, as if he timed
The hours on his own...
No clouds were sailing by above,
No birds that swirled and swirled...
With just the sun to show him love
Within his lonesome world...
That sun had been a faithful friend,
Warmhearted through and through...
For all the hours God could send,
Yes, credit where it's due...
It led him to his hunting grounds
To feed and thus stay strong...
And showed him places he could pounce
Before game strolled along...
It didn't judge, like men have done,
For centuries and more...
He hunted game, but not for fun
And didn't go to war...
The day went on and evening neared...
The cold began to bite...
And when the silver moon appeared,
He kissed the sun goodnight....
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sun Kissed'.
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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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:
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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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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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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Watching From Cover
The wily wolf was all alone,
Content to be that way
And like a statue made of stone,
He waited for his prey...
Watching from cover, laid on snow,
His soul was stained by crime,
Upon the path he chose to go,
As snowflakes marked the time...
Though silence was his only friend,
He knew it wouldn't last,
For soon it would be at an end
As his next meal walked past...
Till then he waited patiently,
No energy was lost...
Until fate chose his destiny,
No matter what the cost...
He strained to keep his head held high,
His eyes and ears so cold,
As lonesome hours waved goodbye
With nothing to be told...
But suddenly, he heard snow crunch,
His prey was in his sights,
Suffice to say he'd found his lunch,
Despite the wrongs or rights...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Watching From Cover'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Winter Perfection
They say the dog is Man's best friend,
His buddy, through and through...
You can depend he will defend,
So credit where it's due...
Yet from the wild wolf he was tamed
And brought into the home,
Where he plays free and unashamed,
Wherever he may roam...
To think, the wolf once crossed the globe,
The forests, plains and hills...
And every valley Man could probe,
The wild wolf hunts and kills.
Beyond the cities, Nature rules
The hunter and the prey...
When Summer dies, the Autumn cools,
Then Winter haunts each day.
The blinding snow falls to the ground
And freezes far and wide...
It's then the white wolf roams around
And has no need to hide.
His camouflage is perfect now,
Successful hunts ensue...
The truth is harsh, yet fates allow
The things the wolf must do...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Winter Perfection'.
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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Hunter's Moon
Beneath the silver-speckled moon,
That floated like the clouds,
The wild wolf smiled, for he would soon
Dispel all nearby crowds.
For he could howl, upon his hill,
Enough to chill your bones,
Enough to make a brave man ill
And fill his throat with groans...
This wily wolf could howl all night!
He sat still unafraid...
He grinned from ear-to-ear all right,
Then what a noise he made!
All ears for miles were tuned in now!
He sniggered, then he paused...
With one huge breath, he howled and how!
And, oh, what fear that caused!
Then three quick howls to pile it on!
Then silence, just for fun...
And just when folks had thought he'd gone,
He proved he wasn't done!
Beneath the hunter's moon above,
His body shook with glee...
He howled as they screamed, 'Lay it off! '
'You can't get rid of me! '
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Hunter's Moon'.
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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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
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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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Curiousity
The dolphin's such a gracious gift,
With wisdom all its own,
With love that grants a precious lift,
In groups or all alone...
As if this world with wonders strewn,
Was meant to be explored,
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
Defiant, self-assured!
The dolphin scans its world ahead
As well as all around,
For by its sensors, it's been led,
With echoes that rebound...
And, oh, what splendours each will find,
What colours yet to see,
Some still unknown by humankind,
But savoured privately!
Stay curious, my dolphin friend!
Explore for all you're worth!
And may your daydreams never end,
As you, with us, share Earth...
Stay curious, by day, by night,
Indeed, your whole life through!
To me, you're such a wondrous sight,
That's why I'll pray for you!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Curiousity'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eye To Eye
I like most elephants I've seen,
I like them, yes, I do...
I like it when they don't act mean,
I like how they swim, too...
I like the way that each one grins,
I like their tusks like nails...
I like their wrinkled leather skins,
I like their swishing tails...
I like it that they look so wise,
I like their marching troop...
I like the twinkles in their eyes,
I like their ears that droop...
I like the way they walk along,
I like their patient grace...
I like it most that while they're strong,
Thank God, they know their place...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Eye To Eye'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Danger
The lion lowered length-to-length,
With danger on his mind
And so he girded all his strength,
His purpose now defined...
His crinkled wrinkled brow felt tight,
His eyes glared to and fro,
Against each danger he must fight
And overcome each foe...
Survival was his only thought,
Adrenalin, his friend,
He'd either catch or he'd be caught,
To win or meet his end...
The sun above had seen it all,
Yet did not stir to save,
Why would it care if he should fall
Or fight so fierce and brave?
The lion's courage made him stay,
He didn't turn and run,
He didn't whimper like a stray
Unhelped by anyone...
His heart was beating oh so fast!
Then suddenly he leapt!
He lived with scars that never passed,
Yet his one life he kept...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Danger'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Attack
The tiger knew each second counts
As he went on the prowl...
Split-second timing for that pounce
Or else he'll pause to scowl...
Success or failure, win or lose,
Eat well or starve today,
That's why the moment he must choose
As he hunts for his prey.
He climbed up trees to scout the land,
He lied in silent wait,
He thought ahead with schemes well planned
So he could celebrate...
But he must play the waiting game...
While starving in the sun,
Or else he'll have himself to blame
When this long day was done.
I watched him through binoculars,
Aware of what could be,
While I chewed on some chocolate bars,
The tiger stared at me...
Let Nature take its course, I said...
So safe within my jeep.
That day, another victim bled...
Before he went to sleep...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Attack'.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fondness
Two penguins stood in one embrace,
United side-by-side,
Despite the coldness of the place,
They shared a sense of pride...
An inner warmth then grew within,
Like humans often feel,
As fondness grows and dreams begin
When something seems so real...
The ice stayed cold beneath their feet,
The sky stayed blue above,
Yet God knew how they looked so sweet,
As warmth turned into love...
From that day on, these two stayed close,
Contented lives to live,
For each goes where the other goes,
Companionship to give...
That's why they never felt alone,
Each sheltered from remorse,
While others nurtured hearts of stone,
As if the only course...
I envy all that fondness shared,
No matter, day or night,
Alas, for me, nobody cared...
And folks, that just ain't right...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Fondness'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Arctic Beauty
The wily wolf deserves respect.
Some children think it's cute...
But most of us, I would suspect,
Are somewhat more astute!
The wolf is wild, no fast-formed friend,
Untamed by modern man.
It doesn't seek to comprehend
What humans want to plan...
The wolf is wary all the time,
To every sound it hears.
Its instincts are, of course, sublime,
Whenever danger nears!
The wolf survives cold Winter's spell...
Determined day-by-day...
To bide its time, then howl, 'Farewell! '
When Spring is here to stay!
The wolf delights in Summer's heat
With all that this entails -
For then, its speed is hard to beat,
In fact, it rarely fails.
The wolf is known to howl at night,
To serenade the moon...
This wailing noise can cause us fright
And some of us to swoon...
The wolf won't change to suit Mankind...
It's lived without his aid.
A wilder creature's hard to find.
The legends never fade.
The wolf is callous to the core,
Like any hunting beast.
Each bloodied tooth, each bloodied claw
Proves hunting hasn't ceased.
The wily wolf has cubs to feed,
The future to preserve...
It doesn't kill for hate or greed...
Just life upon this Earth...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Arctic Beauty'.
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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Arctic Sun II
The white wolf danced at break of day
With sunshine beating down,
Upon the snow to melt away
Old Mother Nature's gown...
The hunting hadn't gone so well,
But Spring was in the air!
Good riddance to cold Winter's spell
And to its sad despair...
Roll on the lengthening of hours
That sunshine would impart
And precious strengthening of powers
That stirred within his heart!
Begone the biting storms and winds!
Let gentle breezes blow!
Be glad, all creatures! Now begins
The seasons waters flow!
The white wolf danced with utmost glee!
Goodbye to loneliness!
And so he frolicked, fancy free,
His new hopes to caress!
And as he danced on yonder hill,
I danced right there and then!
He stared amazed to see such skill
And howled and danced again!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Arctic Sun II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indian Sentinel
The tiger stared as tigers do
Across his own domain,
A remnant of the chosen few
On Earth who still remain...
When Winter comes and times are hard,
As hard as frozen snow,
The tiger's always on his guard,
No matter, high or low...
The seasons pass and daylight's short
And eyes must stay alert,
For any creature to be caught
And dangers that may hurt...
The tiger's seen these days before
And yearns for Spring's return,
Then Summer to appear once more
And sunshine's heat to burn...
For now, survival's game is played
And hunger takes its toll...
And though at times he looks dismayed,
He's brave within his soul...
Endurance and tenacity,
These strengths have served him well...
He hopes another year to see...
Yet of this, who can tell?
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Sentinel'.
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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