Cute Poem by Denis Martindale

The tiger cub rests on his own,
All scrubbed up, looking cute...
His lifestyle you may not condone,
When he hunts meat not fruit...
Yet doesn't he look stunning there
With fur refined like gold?
As if he didn't have a care,
A sweet sight to behold?

Admit it, aren't you somewhat drawn
To study him at length?
No longer quite so full of scorn
When thinking of his strength?
He's not the average pussycat
That whimpers soft meows...
Nor does he seem to be a brat
While he lies there to browse...

But give him time, for he must grow,
In length and height and weight,
No more the little so-and-so
You either love or hate...
Is it so hard to comprehend
What Nature makes him do?
He'll not look quite as cute, my friend,
When he starts chasing you!


Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cute'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com