Denis Martindale Poems

The unpaid poet pottered on,
Perusing pleasant dreams,
Perchance, when inspiration shone,
Perceiving precious themes...
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I've written at the Dentist's
And at the Doctor's, too,
And I've been known to write my lists
When even at the zoo...
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Blessed is the heart that beats with love,
Forgiving like the Lord,
Who sees all things with grace enough
To grant His saints reward...
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The poet woke up from the dream,
The dream that changed his life,
Though dreams aren't always what they seem,
This cut him like a knife...
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Poetry is like a scroll or a road map,
set ablaze with various expressions
guiding us towards an understanding
of what is required, if we define poetry
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When angels formed their choir above,
The shepherds listened well,
For born on Earth, the King of Love,
Was welcomed here to dwell...
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When zebras gather somewhat close
And privacy is lost,
Sometimes a tension slowly grows,
Perhaps a line gets crossed...
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Though not as proud as peacocks are,
Each gold finch seems content,
Not like some human superstar,
Some ego to present...
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What beauty radiates from her,
That cheetah, eyes aglow,
With dainty, dappled spots on fur,
Like footprints, toe-by-toe...
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Three cheetah cubs were left behind
With parents somewhere else,
So every noise that they would find
Would send off warning bells!
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