The tiger roamed across the snow,
No certain place in mind,
With nowhere special he should go
And no romance to find...
Just plodding on, without remorse,
Just yawning now and then,
Just letting Nature take its course,
While snow was back again...
Of course, he'd seen the snow before
And yet what could he do?
It wasn't something to ignore,
Just something to live through...
So on he plodded till fatigued,
Then all at once he stopped,
When all his senses then agreed,
How suddenly he flopped!
Now laid back there and quite relaxed,
He yawned the longest yawn,
No longer feeling quite so taxed,
Though humbled, not forlorn...
For even tigers know they're beat
By acres all aglow,
That's when, laid back, they stretch their feet,
Serene amid the snow...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2013.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Laid Back'.
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for the search phrase Stephen Gayford poetry.
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