Denis Martindale Poems

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...
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The lion is a busy beast
Until he feels fatigue...
When doziness has then increased
With sleepytime to seek...
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Your beauty lives within my heart
As if a warming flame,
As if a poet to impart
The sigh that is your name...
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Two little lions closed their eyes,
So tired in the sun...
No longer now the cool wise guys,
So spritely, full of fun.
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To some, she was a dancer,
With magic steps to boot,
To some, a sweet romancer,
With classic smiles so cute.
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To some, she was a dancer,
With magic steps to boot,
To some, a sweet romancer,
With classic smiles so cute.
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How gingerly the wolf leg hangs,
Now poised there in mid-air...
As he fights back the hunger pangs
That could lead to despair.
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The tiger tip-toes here and there
As he goes on patrol,
Close to the river's edge aware
Of every living soul.
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As precious as a snowflake that's born on Christmas Day,
Or icing on the Christmas cake that makes us shout, 'Hoorah! '
As gracious as a waterfall and rainbows up above,
Is she to me, the girl I call the sweetheart that I love...
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