The Watchers
Two wily wolves were waiting there
For something new to see,
Beyond investing time to stare
At endless scenery...
It didn't matter, his or hers,
Full stomachs now were gone
And deep within, where hunger stirs,
Reminders rumbled on...
Familiar thoughts had thus returned
To haunt them once again,
Recalling lessons both had learned
Which helped them now and then.
They licked their lips like hunters do,
Though nothing was in sight,
Yet sensing there was something new
About to get a fright!
The watchers chose their lucky spot,
Their waiting game to play...
Four starving eyes checked every dot
That flew or walked their way...
At last, their next meal sauntered by,
Quite calm and fancy free...
And since he had no wings to fly,
The rest is history...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Watchers'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Little Jewel
Lioness cub, you look so cool,
Despite the hot sunshine.
Lioness cub, you little jewel,
So calm as you recline...
You take your ease! Yes, settle there...
You've not got much to do...
And if you did, you wouldn't care.
You'd rest the whole day through.
Can't blame you, though! It's flaming hot!
It's something I can't stand!
That's why I'm rooted to the spot...
Let others puff and pant!
Today's the day I'll take it slow...
Like you, I'll take my time...
There's no point being on the go...
Stay still... it's not a crime.
They say that lions are born free,
So who am I to scoff?
Do you feel guilty, just like me?
I've tried to shake it off...
But, no, you're right. Let's both relax...
No need to play the fool...
Let's lie flat out, upon our backs,
Like you... you little jewel...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Little Jewel'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Ambush
The leopard laid low to ambush
Whatever came his way.
When hunger gives big cats a push,
They'll hunt the livelong day.
His whiskers twitched as tensions grew,
He dare not tap his toes,
He merely crouched, maintained his view
Of passing friends and foes...
His back was stretched, at peace for now,
No awkward pains to bear...
While he was poised with furrowed brow
And one almighty stare!
He licked his lips imagining
The thrill the chase would be,
The feast the drawn-out day could bring
If all went hopefully...
His stomach rumbled without shame!
He licked his lips again!
He lacked all guilt, all sense of blame,
Until the moment when
All hell broke loose, the chase was on!
His body was a blur...
And suddenly! One life was gone,
His mouth was full of fur...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Ambush'.
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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:
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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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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'.
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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'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Companionship
Two wolves were waiting side-by-side,
At peace, they looked serene,
Yet both their eyes were open wide
With hunting skills so keen...
They looked majestic, yes, indeed,
Yet those around weren't pleased,
For soon it would be time to feed
And tensions were increased...
Wise creatures now remained quite still,
No sounds to make at all...
For soon they knew that blood would spill,
In one almighty brawl.
The waiting game went on and on,
With gamblers here and there,
Beneath the brilliant sun that shone
Without a single care...
Companionship is well and good,
As friends can testify,
Yet these two owned the neighbourhood
And creatures that ran by.
To some, these wolves with pristine fur
Looked awesome without doubt,
But oh what frightful things occur
Each time there's food about...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Companionship'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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In Pursuit
The cheetah checked the sudden sound,
His neck streamlined and sleek,
His eyes surveying all around,
His hunting skills unique...
His claws now arched, each step was soft,
He gently sniffed for scent,
If unsuccessful, others scoffed
At time unwisely spent...
The cheetah chose the likely path
To stalk the prey ahead,
With chances better than a half
That he would soon be fed.
His next meal moved not far away,
Oblivious, at ease...
Yet this would be its final day,
From then on, rest in peace...
The cheetah cheered when all went well,
A textbook hunt in truth...
Not bad, he thought, then slept a spell,
In hiding, quite aloof.
He simply, slowly, inhaled breath
And exhaled just the same...
Without a thought of life or death...
No conscience, guilt or shame...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'In Pursuit'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Sunlit Family
The wolf cubs looked to see what's what,
Beside the water's edge,
Beneath God's sun that shone so hot,
In service to His pledge,
To shine on all that lived on Earth,
The evil and the good,
So that each one could prove his worth,
Within his neighbourhood...
Those tiny cubs had no defence
Against much larger foes
And Nature offers no pretence
And to no-one it owes...
While wolves are hunters through and through,
They live from meal-to-meal,
To do whatever they must do...
Survival is that real...
And so their mother stood on guard,
As they prepared to drink,
Protectively with one good heart,
No matter what some think...
She's a huntress! She won't give in!
Her family's unique!
Consider her their heroine,
Defender of the weak...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sunlit Family'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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First Adventure
Two tigers traipsed their jungle jaunt,
With nothing else in sight,
The universe itself to taunt
And ready for a fight!
It didn't matter, great or small,
For neither tiger cared,
This was their moment, walking tall,
Their first adventure shared!
So stride for stride they strutted forth,
Exploring, come what may,
Yes, forward east, west, south or north,
Until the end of day...
Together, proud and jubilant,
Triumphant tigers still,
It didn't matter where they went
And, boy, was it a thrill!
Their first adventure, on the prowl,
No Mum and Dad in tow,
With nothing but a mighty growl
As onward they must go!
United, steadfast, confident!
Give them a real wide berth...
If they see you, stay nonchalant
And run for all you're worth!
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'First Adventure'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Lobo
Not one wolf here on Earth forgives
When his next meal gets lost...
The moon shines down on each that lives
Regardless of the cost...
The lobo's hunger must remain,
As if to drive him wild,
As if to drive him quite insane,
Such that his soul's defiled...
As he looks now, he looks serene,
Quite calm and self-composed,
But this is just the in-between,
No victim's death to boast...
I know he looks so beautiful,
Beguiling in a way...
But sometimes wolves can be so cruel...
With others easy prey...
Behold the wolf that stares ahead,
His features so distinct,
Without a single trace of dread,
Awareness interlinked...
With eyes that focus here and there
And ears than scan for sound,
This lobo's up for any dare,
While food's somewhere around...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lobo'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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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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Winter Repose
A lone Siberian tiger
Was resting on a hill,
All dressed in white and golden fur,
Reclining, oh, so still...
Accepting all that Fate had thrown,
Resigned to come what may...
Yes, there he was all on his own,
Just taking in the day...
He couldn't see a soul for miles
And nothing flew above...
And every day he faced new trials,
He met no-one to love...
The lonely figure looked around
At all his eyes surveyed...
And there, he didn't hear a sound
And so, felt quite dismayed...
Without true love, what have we got?
It's true, God only knows...
We know that it can't be a lot,
Like tigers in repose...
Yet hope abides in tigers, too,
And so they persevere...
Yes, they must do what we must do,
Until true love is here...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Winter Repose'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Pack Leaders
The two wolves walked, one thought in mind,
Survival was no game,
That's why their two strengths were combined
When hunting was their aim...
Two heads better, as some would say,
That plan had served them well,
For when they chased the fleeing prey,
They all ran close to Hell...
Each time they tried to track new scents...
Their hunger stayed the same,
With no disgust for past events,
No sense of guilt or shame...
That's why they paced themselves this hour
And kept at bay their dread,
Conserving all their dregs of power
For what must lay ahead...
The two wolves sought no friends or fans,
So wild no man could tame,
The world itself was their expanse,
They sought no claim to fame...
Pack leaders come, pack leaders go,
For now, they ruled by might,
A fact that only few would do,
Yet true both day and night...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Pack Leaders'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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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Silent Waters
The wise white tiger eased his way
Through the silent waters
And with such stealth he proved that day
Just how much he taught us...
For he was such a wily soul,
With cunning so sublime,
Content to maintain self-control,
Content to take his time...
The minimum of noise was made
As he swam dead ahead,
Yet then with gentle paws to wade,
As if a thoroughbred...
Determination drove him on
Towards his destiny...
Another life would soon be gone,
Who knows what it could be?
For now, there were no sudden thrills,
He drifted like a log...
The silence helped his hunting skills,
As if he were a dog...
Yet no dog stared with eyes like his,
Two sapphires burning bright...
Like two gas flames and each flame is
A symbol of his might!
Denis Martindale, copyright April 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Silent Waters'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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