Winter Sunbather
The tiger yawned as he walked on...
The snow had slowed him down...
He'd wait it out till it was gone,
For now, he wore a frown.
The sun reflected in his eyes.
He squinted now and then.
Conserving strength was very wise...
And so he stopped again.
With paws outstetched, his mood soon thawed...
He settled in one place.
No longer was he overawed.
The sun he chose to face...
Another yawn... his eyelids closed,
As if this were the norm,
Yet not so bad as he supposed...
His coat would soon be warm.
While most would sleep contentedly,
This tiger kept his cool.
His head held high for all to see,
He proved he was no fool.
His claws retracted 'neath the fur...
His heartbeat soothed within...
And so he stayed and wouldn't stir,
Until the sun gave in...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Winter Sunbather'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sudden Movement
The tiger's eye was on it fast!
A sudden movement seen!
Now on his feet, he stood at last,
His mind alert and keen...
His body leapt ten feet ahead
And landed with a crunch!
Of course, the reason that he sped
Was what he hoped was lunch!
The creature that he tracked was close,
Somewhere within the snow...
That's why he sniffed with downward nose
As low as he could go...
The creature stopped, no sound was heard...
A silence met his ears.
Then all at once, the creature stirred
And dashed to join his peers...
The tiger's eye was left and right
And saw the creature run
And all at once, the bird took flight...
And nothing could be done!
The tiger's sigh was long and drawn...
No lunch for him today!
When he laid down, he paused to yawn...
And there he chose to stay...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sudden Movement'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed 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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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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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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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
poem by Denis Martindale
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Winter Snows
As he laid down his weary head,
The tiger heaved a sigh...
'Not snow again? ' he asked, then said,
'Oh, dear, please, tell me why.'
The snowflakes flopped upon his nose
And nestled on his ears,
On twitching whiskers, then his toes
And made him feel his years...
'I don't deserve this day-by-day
And even night-by-night...
It doesn't matter if I pray,
My world's a constant white.'
Depressed, he stayed, frustrated still...
Life's not as we would choose.
Sometimes the chill can make us ill -
That's hardly called good news.
His fur coat kept him warm at best...
He wasn't all that cold.
Yet snow north, south and east and west?
Oh, dear... he felt so old...
He used to climb the tallest trees
And bask beneath the sun!
Snow was slippery just like grease...
It simply wasn't done...
Yes, Winter snows tame tigers, too.
Like them, for Spring, we wait...
For now, there's nothing we can do...
I know, that's great... just great...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Winter Snows'.
More Stephen Gayford wildlife poems:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Indian Sanctuary
The tiger rested in the sun
Without a single care...
Without the need to hunt or run,
This sense of peace was rare.
The tiger wasted none of this,
It just went with the flow...
Partaking of its share of bliss
And in its afterglow.
The afternoon was on its way,
No danger and no qualm.
No enemies to keep at bay,
No reason for alarm.
The tiger didn't understand
This sudden change of pace,
This Shangri-La, this Wonderland,
This blessing or this grace.
Why question what seemed meant to be?
Why fret when all goes well?
Be thankful for serenity,
Enjoy it for a spell.
The tiger's heart was tranquil, too.
Its rhythm matched the mood.
As if in safety in a zoo
Where Man provides the food.
You could call this a sanctuary,
A dream within a dream...
A pleasant place that's fancy free
Where nothing is extreme...
The tiger thought it Paradise
It knew it couldn't keep...
And so it simply closed its eyes,
Thanked God and went to sleep...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Sanctuary'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burning Bright
Oh, how brilliant is the legend
In oranges and blacks.
You look and then your breath suspend...
The tiger nothing lacks!
With stripes so strong, so debonair,
So vibrant in the sun!
How dominant, beyond compare,
A vision that can stun!
Take in the stance, the mouth, the teeth,
The claws in paws of gold...
They keep their secrets there beneath,
For they must not be told!
But come the time the tiger stalks
The prey that's dead ahead...
Those claws aren't merely just for walks...
I'm sure you've guessed! Nuff said...
The tiger tempts nobody close,
He growls contempt for all...
For now, he merely strikes a pose,
As if his curtain call...
Endangered species come and go!
His legend's burning bright!
Yet how long for, no man can know...
Please pray again, tonight...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Burning Bright'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Cool Refuge
At last, a place to hide away, cool refuge from the sun...
Some solitude, a chance to stay, where nothing much gets done.
A perfect spot meant to beguile the busy beasts on Earth,
No more to worry for a while, for what is worry worth?
The sun was fierce and in his face. Too close for comfort, friend.
The tiger tried to slow the pace till he was on the mend...
And once his ears heard nothing new, he slowly closed his eyes
And lowly breathed and time just flew and caught him by surprise.
The sun had moved across the sky, now tired, in retreat.
The tiger didn't question why the sky eye lost its heat.
Enough to know his cool refuge would soon be cooler still...
His change in mood would then be huge and end this passing thrill.
The tiger tarried in repose with great tranquillity
And gently scratched his tickled nose with tingling ecstasy...
One final hour in the shade... his refuge then grew cold.
The sad decision must be made, now that the day grew old...
So up he stood, with strength renewed, recharged and vibrant now
And thankful for this interlude, vowed to return... somehow...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Refuge'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indian Sentinel
The tiger stared as tigers do
Across his own domain,
A remnant of the chosen few
On Earth who still remain...
When Winter comes and times are hard,
As hard as frozen snow,
The tiger's always on his guard,
No matter, high or low...
The seasons pass and daylight's short
And eyes must stay alert,
For any creature to be caught
And dangers that may hurt...
The tiger's seen these days before
And yearns for Spring's return,
Then Summer to appear once more
And sunshine's heat to burn...
For now, survival's game is played
And hunger takes its toll...
And though at times he looks dismayed,
He's brave within his soul...
Endurance and tenacity,
These strengths have served him well...
He hopes another year to see...
Yet of this, who can tell?
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Sentinel'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Adorable
The white tiger cub had blue eyes!
He looked adorable!
The sight of him was some surprise,
The day he came to call...
He had a swagger in his stride,
A special confidence!
Just like a lion full of pride,
This tiger had few friends!
The other tigers envied him!
You see, he looked too cute!
Filled up with beauty to the brim
And his horn first to toot!
'Hey, look at me! ' He seemed to say!
'Admit it, I look cool! '
That made the tigers walk away...
And he felt such a fool!
When wisdom slowly filtered through,
He quickly changed his style.
And stopped the things he used to do...
He didn't even smile...
Now humbled, he walked all alone...
Unloved, unliked, unsure...
Nobody even shared a bone...
It shook him to the core!
One tiger showed him pity, then...
His loneliness to end...
Humility's the moment when
You're thankful for a friend...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Adorable'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indian Jewel
Up close, the tiger looks quite fierce,
He's in your face, just so...
He'll stare at you with eyes that pierce,
That's just to let you know...
He's no pushover, get that straight!
Don't twiddle with his tail!
Don't climb aboard or aggravate
Or he'll make you go pale...
Your blood will fall from brawn and brain,
You'll gulp to clear your throat,
You'll never be the same again...
Be warned and please take note...
A tiger's not a friendly pet
That you pat on the head!
In fact, on this, I'd take a bet,
You'd run away instead...
This Indian jewel like amber shines,
Black diamonds set the tone...
White pearls for teeth and whiskered lines
Tell us, leave him alone...
Majestic though he seems to be,
The tiger's rough and tough!
So right here's where I'll look and see...
My camera zoom's enough...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Jewel'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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