Denis Martindale Poems

Wild animals from start to end,
Two wolves worked as a team,
Combining strength, that fatal blend,
In ways Man calls extreme.
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Who is my favourite poet? That would be me, of course!
I wrote each poem and know it, so each is mine, not yours.
I started a long time ago, with just a basic pen,
And caused the rhymes to overflow to bless me now and then.
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The tiger seemed a noble lord,
So dignified to me,
I know that I felt overawed,
At all that he could be.
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How rare this tiger looked that day,
As I with camera stood,
Thrilled at the colours on display,
I did all that I could.
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The youthful lion stood there proud,
Aware of gazing eyes,
Yet in his heart, he daily vowed
That he would gain the prize.
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What makes a poem what it is and recognised as such?
Is it announcing joy or bliss, as if these count so much?
Is it a sense of savoir faire, a touch of elegance,
A precious phrase beyond compare, of perfect eloquence?
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Above the Saviour's cross, I saw
A message plain to see,
That shared His Name and so much more
Right there on Calvary.
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She was a stunning sight to see,
With powers all her own,
Outshining all the scenery,
Just walking there alone.
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The Bible says that God loves you
Enough to send His Son,
To do what only Christ could do,
Till Christ said, 'It is done! '
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Take the greatest minds on Earth,
Expect the very best!
Creatively, they prove their worth,
Helping us to get blessed!
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