The wicked wily wolf surveyed
The woodlands to his right,
Each evening watching daylight fade,
As twilight came in sight...
When trees, like men, looked menacing,
If only they could move,
While he, the smaller, stood as king,
With nothing left to prove...
Surveying, since he had survived
Each Winter past till now,
Yet through each season he still thrived,
Although not knowing how...
For God had spared him to this day,
Despite his callous soul
And let him choose his path to stray,
Like he was in control...
But judge if God will yet remain,
Forgiving till the end,
Dismissing each new sin and stain
That no wolf could defend...
The wolf is wily, yes, that's true,
An untamed spirit, yes...
But God has spared His loved ones, too,
His precious sheep to bless...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2015.
Poem based on a magnificent wildlife painting,
by artist Stephen Gayford nb Google-search
gayfordgallery and 'Stephen Gayford poetry'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem