Oh, man, that tiger sure looked mean,
A sourpuss, indeed,
And as for friends, he wasn't keen,
A lonesome life to lead...
He didn't need to chat a while,
Nor show off now and then,
In fact, he rarely seemed to smile,
Was love to blame again?
I pitied him for all he was,
A tiger in his prime,
Something went wrong, I knew because,
I watched from time to time...
From what I've seen, I've learnt he's wise,
He's cautious every day,
But there's a sadness in his eyes,
With joy so far away...
I learnt a lot from his despair...
I'd not become that grim!
Although I'm not a millionaire,
I'd never act like him...
There's hope for me! There's hope for us!
Don't dwell upon the past!
If we won't act the sourpuss,
We'll never be downcast!
Denis Martindale October 2016.
Poem based on the magnificent tiger paintings
by Stephen Gayford. Google-search phrases
gayford prints and Stephen Gayford poetry
and also for Heaven and Earth Designs...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem