Triplets
Depending on your point of view,
If you think they're first rate,
We know what lion cubs can do,
But triplets can be great!
Yes, lion cubs are little tykes!
Three rascals can be fun...
With each cub doing as he likes,
Till he sleeps in the sun...
They're nodding off... plum tuckered out...
Yet they don't want to snooze!
They'd rather pounce and jump about,
With cunning, cruise and bruise...
They'd rather scratch and bite and roar,
Cause chaos for a while...
Than simply, merely, humbly snore...
And lose all sense of style.
The other cubs aren't tired yet,
They slowly bide their time...
For some revenge they'll swiftly get
And won't that feel sublime?
The triplets haven't got a prayer!
They've got to go to sleep!
The other cubs are well aware...
As they, their vigil, keep!
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Triplets'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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'.
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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'.
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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'.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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'.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Bright Eyes
He really doesn't have a clue,
He's still too young to know!
He does what little lions do,
He's always on the go...
He's scratching backs, he's biting tails!
He's pouncing now and then!
He's challenging the other males!
He wins four out of ten!
His tiny teeth aren't up to much!
His smooth young claws are stubs!
His awesome ears keep him in touch
With antics of the cubs!
He dribbles and he's got no shame!
He's often known to drip...
Though every lion has his fame,
He's hardly cool or hip!
But he'll get better every day
Because he's keen to learn...
That's how great lions find their way,
In time, respect to earn!
One day and his courageous heart
Will grant him everything...
One day, he'll really look the part,
One day, he'll be a king!
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Bright Eyes'.
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White Knight
As if washed clean and left to dry,
The lion looked supreme!
His mane like snowflakes floating by
To shimmer gleam by gleam...
The light shone down with highlights there,
So picturesque, so fine...
With close-up detail, hair by hair,
Majestic, line by line...
His eyes observed the land he ruled,
His lion cubs at play...
He knew that soon each would be schooled
To hunt the local prey...
His lioness was nearby, too,
To fill his heart with pride...
Together they'd found pastures new...
He felt real good inside...
He was her knight, her champion,
Her friend without a doubt...
With cubs, new life to carry on,
When adults must bow out...
Each lion leaves a legacy
That's always action-packed!
God grants each cub a destiny
That Man must leave intact...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Knight'.
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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Exhausted
To say the sun was way too hot
Was simply not enough.
To think, that tiny golden dot
Was burning bright above.
The lion cub had spent his strength,
Just playing with his friends
And now, he laid down, stretched full length,
Exhausted as day ends...
The adult lions stared amused,
Yet knew one day he'd learn.
To pace himself, for there's no boost
And there's no second turn...
The slightly older cubs still played,
While he laid motionless...
They'd learnt some wisdom and obeyed,
Without the need to guess.
The lion cub could hear them still
And gazed through weary eyes,
For he'd lost both the strength and will...
To join the other guys...
Plum tuckered out! All on his Todd!
He couldn't pounce or creep...
And since no-one gave him a prod,
He gently went to sleep...
'Poor thing! ' the adults all agreed,
Acknowledging their sorrow...
And promised they'd help him succeed,
'We'll feed him up... tomorrow...'
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Exhausted'.
More Stephen Gayford poems can be read here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Inquisitive
Two tiger cubs were curious,
Inquisitive to boot!
It's true that they looked glorious
And throw in kinda cute!
But woe to those that walked close by
Much smaller than these two...
These cubs were on the prowl, that's why,
And naughty things they'd do!
Yes, naughty things! Without a doubt!
These scamps were rogues at heart!
They weren't adverse to thump and clout
And pull things all apart!
What makes that tick? How does that move?
They'd ask the live-long day,
As if they'd got something to prove,
Like scientists at play...
Inquisitive by day and night,
They drove their parents mad!
They'd pester poor old Mum, too right,
Yet kept clear of their Dad!
'It's just a phase! ', the others said,
'Let's wait a little while...'
Yet secretly they'd go to bed,
Then giggle, smirk and smile...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Inquisitive II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Rarity
Across the plains my Jeep went well,
Yet something slowed me down,
As if I were within a spell
So far away from town...
Binoculars were by my side,
I raised them to my eyes,
For I beheld a lion's pride
And then a great surprise...
White lions here? Yes, I felt blessed!
I got my camera out...
Who could have known? Who could have guessed?
And yet there was no doubt.
I snapped some pictures there and then,
Because I needed proof...
For who among the wisest men
Would trust me with the truth?
But then I paused... Should I pass on
These pictures to Mankind?
My heart said yes, before they're gone,
Their beauty left behind...
Now all the world can celebrate
White lion cubs born free,
To watch them grow and think they're great!
God bless such rarity...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Rarity'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Savannah Slumber
Sometimes a lioness must sleep
Despite her cubs in-tow,
Into the Land of Nod to creep,
With eyelids hanging low...
And long deep breaths soon come around
To signal her retreat,
Until she hears a purring sound
From one cub small and sweet...
She almost made it! Both eyes closed!
'What now! ? ' she thinks once more,
Yet her young scamp has just imposed,
So how can she ignore?
Can't someone else please help her out?
They look the other way...
Alas, there's not one friend about!
How typical today!
She still pretends she's fast asleep!
But he's a pesky pest!
Despite the fact she's like a heap,
I don't think he's impressed!
So up she gets, left paw, right paw,
Then back legs follow suit...
Now's not the time to sleep and snore!
'Hey, Mum, don't I look cute! ? '
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Savannah Slumber'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Bush Master
No more the lion cub is he,
Now full grown in his prime
And gone is all timidity
Because this is his time...
Prepared for such a day as this,
His eyes survey the land,
His destiny won't go amiss,
In truth, his life is planned.
This season changes everything,
He walks as if he rules,
As if he were their only king,
Adorned with gold and jewels.
It's true that lions should be feared,
It's true that they are fierce,
Yet openly they are revered
By men and all their peers.
Bush masters live, take life and die,
With cubs to take their place,
Without the need to question why,
As if no shame to face...
If left alone, they may endure
A thousand years or more...
If not, extinction, death for sure,
Gone with one final roar...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Bush Master'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Lion Cub
To study him, as he was now,
You'd think that he looked swell.
This lion cub with wrinkled brow
Was known to cast a spell...
Your first impressions are misled,
For he's no gentle soul...
Just tired out, with weary head,
Till he regains control...
Once back on form, he's set to pounce!
He's on all fours again!
As if on springs, he'll leap and bounce
Before he counts to ten!
This little jewel is known to prowl
And ambush suddenly...
He even makes his Mother growl,
While Dad stares solemnly...
But does he care, displaying shame?
Does he observe their rules?
They've never known him to be tame!
He treats them all as fools!
But one day soon, he'll stand and fight,
No matter what this brings!
Yes, one day soon, with all his might,
He'll join the lion kings!
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lion Cub'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Thirsty
The lioness was mighty glad
To drink and slake her thirst,
Or else the sun would drive her mad,
As if the lass were cursed...
Two tiny cubs were tired out
And welcomed such relief,
They all felt joy beyond a doubt,
As if beyond belief...
Each precious sip like nectar soothed
Their parched throats deep within...
As if the Lord had somehow proved
That He would help them win...
Each had their place and purpose, too,
And God esteemed their worth.
So think, what greater point of view
Than God who made this Earth?
He made the lions, tigers, bears,
He made them one-by-one...
He made the Earth, He hears our prayers,
He knows what must be done...
That's why He grants the rain to fall,
The sun to keep us warm...
The water waits for one and all,
Regardless of their form...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Thirsty'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Proud Mother
Within this world of wondrous things,
Snow leopards learn to live...
From gentle cubs, as underlings,
To parents, life to give.
To each his own, that's how it goes,
The male and female breed,
Such that new life within her grows,
Until they, too, are freed...
Then all at once those cubs must learn
What life is all about,
And thus, in time, respect to earn,
No longer rules to flout...
They choose to serve within a team,
Survival to ensure,
No matter if through acts extreme
That shake us to the core...
Their mother is their constant guide
And yet their closest friend.
That's why she looks on them with pride
Until the bitter end...
For she's known love and she's known death
And yearns to stay alive...
Until she breathes her final breath,
She'll help them to survive...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Proud Mother'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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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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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Mother's Favourite
Of all her cubs, this one was best,
The lioness believed,
When by this one was so impressed,
Asked what could be achieved...
For now, a playful scamp, no more,
Yet eyes alert all day,
Exploring till he knew the score,
Content to know the way...
He wasn't too rough on the rest,
A few chewed tails, that's all,
Yet not too much as if a pest,
So that he'd always brawl...
He lived life well, yet somehow thought
There's so much more than this,
Yet by life now was firmly caught,
For it seemed utter bliss...
The lioness chose to invest
With extra time to share,
At first the others hadn't guessed,
Then they became aware...
'What makes him special, Mummy, dear?
It can't be that he's cute...'
'He's special! Let me make that clear,
You see, he's quite astute! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mother's Favourite'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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