The Resting Place

A fallen tree was found one day
As one young tiger strolled
And that was where he chose to stay
To let tense claws unfold...
The sun was shining, gliding past,
Just like each day before,
Yet there below he found at last
A place to rest each paw.

The tiger's whiskers lowered down,
Like tiny twigs at ease,
While peace began to melt each frown
Amid a soothing breeze...
This was the life! For him, at least:
No hunger, thirst or fear.
Like music to the savage beast,
His thoughts were crystal clear...

A fallen tree, well past its prime,
While sad, still served him well.
To him, a precious place sublime,
Where he could pause a spell...
Let others chase their tails around!
Let others build their nests!
For him, a paradise was found...
No wonder that he rests...


Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.

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

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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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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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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'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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

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

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King Of The Castle

The tiger strolled alone again...
Unloved for all to see...
A lonely king revered by men
And yet no queen had he...
No tigress roared for him to hear,
No tigress caught his eye,
No tigress brought from far to near
To cause a sovereign's sigh...

The tiger strolled a little more...
His heart a heavy weight...
A lonely king who felt so poor
He couldn't celebrate...
No tigress toured his countryside,
No tigress sought his love,
No tigress thought of him with pride,
So was this life enough?

The tiger strolled another day...
With pining in his soul...
A lonely king he'd have to stay,
Maintaining self-control...
But suddenly he roared and roared!
Until God heard him, too!
God sent a tigress to this lord
Who never said, 'Thank You! '


Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'King Of The Castle'.

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

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Treading Water

The tired tiger made his way
Until he found the stream,
The sight of it had made his day,
It truly was supreme...
His whiskers twitched at newborn scents
That stirred within the mud
And yet he felt the recompense
As water cooled his blood...

This is the life! No doubt at all,
Just walking here and there
And further on, the waterfall,
A sight beyond compare...
Just treading water, nothing more,
Content to rest therein,
With oozing mud between each claw,
Enough to make him grin...

The tired tiger gently breathed,
His heartbeat calmed as well,
His shoulder muscles now relieved
As Nature cast its spell...
God makes the sunshine then the rain,
Then streams upon the land,
So tired tigers can't complain
When times like these are planned...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2011.

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

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

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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

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The Sublime

The leopard left his sleep behind,
Arose and walked around
And with that walk his waking mind
Was glad at what he found...
The sun was shining in the sky,
A wondrous breeze drew near
And yet not once did he ask why
Such blessings should appear...

And yet this world is so sublime,
In every single part
And blessed are they that spend their time
In painting perfect art...
Think of all creatures... great and small...
That artists sit and paint,
Yet Stephen Gayford, he stands tall,
To some, he is a saint...

He captures insights when on tour,
He gets each detail done
And then he thrills us to the core
And shares his sense of fun...
From meerkats to the giant cats,
Fantastic dolphins, too!
He paints them like aristocrats...
Sublime... each time... for you...

Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.


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

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

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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

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

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

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

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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com

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Close Companions

Two tigers rested, both at peace,
No arguments at all,
No disagreements to release,
No sudden need to brawl...
Serenity was in the air,
Tranquillity sublime...
As if they had all day to spare
And yet not waste their time...

They gently breathed the sunshine in,
As if they felt caressed...
No pesky flies, no tails to spin,
Contented and so blessed...
Was this their dreamworld filled with love?
Was this their answered prayer?
If so, perfection proved enough
That they were glad to share...

If only Man had peace like this!
A place to sculpt or paint,
A paradise of precious bliss,
So delicate, so quaint...
Where music lilted lyrically,
Like waterfalls at play...
Like Heaven, where God's majesty
The angels praise each day...


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.

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

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

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

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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'.

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

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