White Water
The white tiger went on his way
To where he had to go,
He'd suffered the heat of the day,
Now sought where waters flow...
And oh what joy as he walked in,
What wholesome sweet relief,
As cooling water soothed his skin...
Pure joy beyond belief...
With gentle grace he swam a while
And ripping waters trailed
As if with magic to beguile...
Each time, it never failed...
There was a certain mystery,
A miracle at least,
A wistful end to misery
That soothed this savage beast...
And when his blood was cool once more,
It now was time to leave...
And so he swam to walk ashore,
The heat no more to grieve...
White water comes from waterfalls
Then flows into a stream...
And to this day, he still recalls
God's gift as though a dream...
(July 2011/The poem is based on the
magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford
called 'White Water'.)
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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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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
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

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Thirst Quencher
Both young and old, the zebras came,
To dare to drink again.
Not one of these would know God's Name,
Yet He had sent the rain...
So while the zebras drank their fill,
From empty to the brim,
Not one of these possessed the skill
To offer thanks to Him...
The sizzling sun shone in the sky
Providing heat and light,
Yet none of these could question why
Each owned the gift of sight...
The cool, cool breeze began to blow...
To grant them some relief,
Yet none of these would ever know
True faith or true belief...
Yet there was love within their hearts,
As they stood side-by-side.
This precious gift that never parts,
For conscience is its guide...
While water brings both joy and strife,
Without it, love would end...
May God help zebras to survive,
With water as their friend...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Thirst Quencher'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Cooling Down Time
The tiger touched the water's edge...
What wonderment he felt...
As if cascading from a ledge,
His tensions seemed to melt...
The sun was not as harsh or fierce,
His coat was not so warm...
When hearts feel good, each burden clears
And gentle dreams take form.
His tender toes walked on soft mud...
His muscles eased once more...
The water helped to cool his blood,
So why should he explore?
Heavy's the head that wears the crown,
In charge of everything...
That's why he stayed and settled down...
Relaxing like a king...
Blessed by water he loves so dear,
Beneath the shady trees...
A wise man won't approach him here...
Not while he's found some peace...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cooling Down Time'.
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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Mesmeric
White tiger eyes, white tiger eyes,
So mesmeric in blue,
Are they to cut me down to size
So that I might fear you?
Or are they there to gain my trust
That friendship grows and grows?
If so, then why am I nonplussed,
Can't move my legs, feet, toes?
White tiger eyes, white tiger eyes,
If only you would blink!
I'd get a chance to realise!
I'd get a chance to think!
What lessons could you teach my soul?
What blessings for my heart?
Or would you quickly take control
And then tear me apart?
White tiger eyes, white tiger eyes,
What secrets lay behind?
What wonders lay in dark surprise
To captivate my mind?
Despite your gracious majesty,
You're getting on my wick!
First chance I get, I must break free,
Turn tail and scarper quick!
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mesmeric'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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White Haven
Even white tigers have to bathe
Though they're as white as snow,
That's why an hour they will save
For streams that overflow...
On winsome days, when winds are calm
And sunlight shines above,
White tigers will not hunt or harm
While their hearts beat with love...
The waters let white tigers chill
Like little lambs at play..
A haven here that can instill
A reason to delay...
Life isn't always running round
So frantic in the sun,
Sometimes the simple things astound,
When nothing much gets done.
This was that time, when time relaxed,
When tiny sounds were heard...
When muscles were no longer taxed
And all white tigers purred...
Who knows how long these cats survive?
This century? No more?
Be glad today that they're alive...
For no-one can be sure...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Haven'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale

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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Staying Cool
'O.K., that's it! ' the tiger said!
He'd simply had enough!
And in a rage, he shook his head,
Yes, things were looking rough!
He'd searched the jungle for that stream
Because he'd lost his way,
So hot, he wandered in a dream
And thus was bound to stray!
Yet suddenly... he smelt wet leaves,
Their scent upon the air
And thus a long, long sigh he heaves,
'At last, I'm almost there! '
Since staying cool was his concern,
That water saved his skin!
The path that led here he must learn,
So he could get back in!
And all at once, he waded past
The leaves that helped him find
This precious Shangri-La at last
That offered peace of mind...
Tense muscles slumped! His body swayed...
The heat was quickly gone...
And motionless, he thus delayed,
Beneath the sun that shone...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Staying Cool'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Tentative
True beauty seems, of course, quite rare,
Somehow that's meant to be,
The tentative white tiger there,
He's untamed, fancy free...
To me, that tiger's all alone,
His wits his own defence,
To most, a giant now full grown,
No others as his friends...
The world he walks, that's all he knows,
His land both night and day
And every single place he goes
Is merely on his way...
Yet now, beside the water's edge,
A new world gets revealed,
He's tentative without knowledge,
Yet seeks what lies concealed...
In time, this world will be his, too,
His second home, to speak,
His special place, forever new,
Each visit quite unique...
To him, the water's wonderful,
True beauty all the time,
Sensational and sensual,
So fluid and sublime...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Tentative'.
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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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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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Wading In
The tiger knew that it was time
To wash away his woes,
To gently soften all the grime
That stuck between his toes!
That's why the stream seemed so supreme,
His perfect Shangri-La...
Now wading in, as in a dream,
As if into a spa...
The world felt distant, far away,
The water felt so good...
His problems melted, kept at bay,
Beyond this neighbourhood...
No other tigers shared his pool,
How could he come to harm?
And so he let his body cool
Amid the tranquil calm...
Of course he knew it wouldn't last!
He savoured it for now...
And luckily an hour passed,
That's all God would allow...
So up he got, as if reborn,
Blessed, baptised and renewed...
No more the feline so forlorn,
But full of gratitude...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Wading In II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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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
poem by Denis Martindale

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Evening Sun
The white wolf stood and stared a while...
The water soothed his feet.
Perhaps he'd search another mile
For food that he could eat.
The sunshine faded, night approached,
A sudden chill was felt...
The silvered twilight moon encroached
And darkness soon was dealt...
The evening sun bid all farewell,
Its time had come and gone,
Replaced by stars that cast their spell
As moonlight carried on...
The stuff of legends now took hold,
He howled his hunger out...
Who knew what wonders would unfold,
What fears to cause men doubt?
Now all his instincts forced his pace,
For he, too, must survive,
Against all odds, through nights and days,
Perchance to stay alive...
It's true that wolves have wily schemes
To brave the midnight storm,
Yet pet dogs dream their pampered dreams,
In comfort, calm and warm...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Evening Sun'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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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
poem by Denis Martindale

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