The tiger crunched the frosted ground
by Denis Martindale
As he went on patrol,
With nothing living all around,
He stood a lonely soul...
But food was on his mind once more,
So hunting he would go,
Despite the cold none could ignore
And all that dazzling snow...
Today he couldn't run as fast,
Yet neither could his prey,
That's why he needn't be downcast
Till it had got away...
For now, high hopes were in his heart,
He licked his lips with glee,
For he raised hunting to an art
And patience was the key...
He was the king of all there was,
This land was his alone,
He loved this land and all because
Each hiding place was known...
Survival has one Golden Rule,
Don't give up, don't give in!
That's why the tiger seemed so cruel
Each time he chose to grin...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2014.
The poem is based on the magnificent wildlife
painting by Stephen Gayford nb Google search:
Find more wildlife poems using Google search
for the search phrase Stephen Gayford poetry.