White tiger, wading slowly in,
Contented as can be,
Away from all your kith and kin,
You find tranquillity...
The fluid motions nestle close,
To greet your every stride,
To welcome you in your repose,
As from the heat you hide...
The gentle touch caresses you,
No judgment for your sins,
All washed away like morning dew,
You're treated like a prince...
The sunbeams settle on your back,
Defiant to the end,
Upon your stripes both white and black,
That form a perfect blend...
White tiger, won't you spend a while?
Please stay! The sun's so hot!
Forget your subtlety and guile,
For they won't help a lot...
The forest waterhole is cool,
Your friend in times of need...
And though it's merely just a pool,
It's wonderful, indeed!
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Forest Waterhole'.
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