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:
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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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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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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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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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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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Forest Tracker
White tigers track the forest floor,
Like this one did one day,
Steadfast and with his tightened jaw,
He went along his way...
Sometimes to pause and listen well,
Then one step at a time,
To catch a glimpse, some sign to tell,
To perpetrate his crime...
The villain of the piece was he,
Of that there was no doubt,
Though just a stroll it seemed to be,
Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!
I wouldn't snap a twig or two,
If I were walking near,
In fact, I think I'd be like you,
Just paralysed with fear!
I'd watch that tiger walking past,
While I stood still unseen...
If he saw me, then I'd run fast,
'Cos tigers can get mean!
For now, he's like some cuddly cat,
Ol' Blue Eyes, all alone...
And yet, please don't be fooled by that,
You see, he's fully grown!
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Forest Tracker'.
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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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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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
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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Restful
White tigers haven't much to say,
When flat out on the chin...
'It's been a long, long, long, long day...
I'm pooped! It's done me in! '
So there he was, eyes almost closed,
Quite restful... dozing off...
And now no longer quite disposed
To act as if a toff!
Aristocrats must also sleep,
When into beds they climb...
To yawn again and breathe in deep,
When it's their beddy-time!
White tigers may be very rare,
But they can't beat the clock!
A tiger's eye can stare and stare
Till moonshine it must block...
Tomorrow's just another day,
Who knows what it might bring?
For now the big white cat must lay,
Like any other king...
I've never heard a tiger snore...
I'd never get that near!
But if I did, I'd shake his paw
And scarper, never fear!
By day, to him, I'd raise my hat
And meekly gently bow...
Good night, you furry fluffy cat!
You're not so mighty now...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Restful'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Serengeti Evening
The tiger looks a noble sort,
I think that you'd agree.
It doesn't really take much thought,
It's there for all to see.
The tiger smoulders in the sun,
Like marmalade on toast -
His orange stripes so crisply done
To stand out uppermost.
His swishing tail, his piercing eyes,
His rippling muscles, too.
His camouflage meant to disguise,
To do what he must do...
Together, how they all impress -
Both young and old take note.
With tigers, there's no need to guess,
You just look at that coat.
His whiskers twitching up and down
And sometimes left and right.
Each forehead stripe just like a frown,
As if he just took fright.
The tiger looks a noble sort,
Determined through and through!
But sadly, I must now report:
Run fast or he'll catch YOU!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Serengeti Evening II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
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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Catnap
The tiger looked with expert eyes,
Content to see for miles...
And in his own eyes he was wise,
His black heart full of wiles...
There was no doubt within his mind,
This was the time to choose...
A better time he wouldn't find
For him to have a snooze...
He stretched his awesome long legs out,
Then curled up in a ball...
Quite sure there was no-one about,
His catnap came to call...
His eyelids drooped, like weary tails,
Their blackness dead ahead...
And nothing short of fearsome gales
Could open them instead...
Deep breaths and he was on his way,
To where all tigers go,
When big cats' dreams they must obey
And this each one must know...
His whiskers flopped like withered strings,
No longer tight and taut...
So much for tigers thought as kings,
If by his dreams, he's caught...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Catnap'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
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poem by Denis Martindale
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
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Flat Out
The sun was mighty warm today!
The lioness concurred...
She found a pleasant rock to lay,
A spot that she preferred...
And then she sort of melted there...
And with that rock was one,
Such that she simply didn't care
About that sizzling sun...
Her heavy eyelids flickered still,
Some consciousness to keep,
As if a final act of will
Before she slipped to sleep...
Her breathing in and breathing out
Were simply not the same
And should there be a single doubt,
She'd swear, the sun's to blame!
Flat out, she was, her tail as well,
Like one long stretch of string...
As if the victim of a spell,
She couldn't do a thing!
The mighty huntress met her match!
Flat out, for all to see...
And there she stayed, some sleep to snatch,
From noon till half-past-three...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Flat Out'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
poem by Denis Martindale
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