Edge Of The Night Poem by Denis Martindale

Edge Of The Night



The lion lurks as daylight dims
Still draped with golden mane,
Subservient now to hunter's whims
From which he won't refrain.
For hunger grows from deep within,
His life is on the line
And so his hunting must begin,
With cold skills to refine...

His eyes adjust to black night views,
His ears hear near and far...
No tiny meal could he refuse,
No creature could he bar...
The darkness hangs there like a shroud,
Engulfing all below...
The only light God has allowed
Is moonlight still aglow...

Its moonshine lends night victims hope,
The chance to run and hide,
The chance to flee, survive and cope
With fear, eyes open wide...
The lion's strong, the lion's fast,
Determined to succeed,
That's why before this night has passed,
He'll feast through stealth and speed...


Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Edge Of The Night'.

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

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success