Denis Martindale Poems

The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
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Some say that fairies don't exist!
Yet children know they do!
That's why their legends still persist,
Perhaps you've heard them, too!
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The poet woke up in his bed, he dressed and faced the day,
Not knowing what lay just ahead, he paused as if to pray.
Then suddenly, the angel came, right there within his room,
So how could things then stay the same? For that none could assume.
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When Polar Bears walk on the ice,
Their tootsies somewhat cold,
It isn't much like Paradise,
If I may be so bold...
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Sometimes a lioness must sleep
Despite her cubs in-tow,
Into the Land of Nod to creep,
With eyelids hanging low...
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The tiger climbed his favourite hill
To find his favourite spot,
Somehow that tiger got a thrill,
Up there, though feeling hot...
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Dear friends, it's been getting colder,
We're further from the Sun...
I feel pain that's in each shoulder,
We all know that's no fun!
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Behold the Phantom of the North,
The wild, white wolf of old!
His legends nightly going forth
And in hushed tones are told...
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The tiger waded further on,
He had some place to go,
Somewhere to be, where sunlight shone,
So bright as if aglow!
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The elephant was on her way,
Her calf was close nearby,
You should've seen their bodies sway,
Both marching, heads held high!
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