Denis Martindale Poems

The jeering crowd like jackals stood,
To see what must be done.
Though once they thought this man was good,
They didn't see God's Son.
...

Behold my form, my humble guise, my fragile fashioned grace.
Look deep within the giver’s eyes, some noble hopes to trace.
November’s here and folks look back to what heroes have bought.
They stood as one as things looked black, courageous as they fought.
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It's true, I am an elephant!
In fact, I've always been!
I've got this trunk way up in front,
Stuck here, right in-between...
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Each man on Earth who strives for good
And seeks to bless the neighbourhood
Should ask himself what gifts he owns
To fight the evil crime condones!
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The arctic fox was laying low,
With cunning in his eyes,
While just above the ice and snow,
Just waiting in disguise...
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The snow leopard stared intently,
At all things near and far...
While at times, he looked quite friendly,
You know how wild cats are.
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Behold the precious Prince of Prints,
By wildlife he is stirred!
Yet who is he who uses tints?
Mr Stephen Gayford!
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A happy man is he who's found a lass that he can love...
As if by beauty he's been bound yet wouldn't shake her off!
Her lips like magnets draw him close till he looks in her eyes!
What happens next God only knows for eyes can hypnotise!
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A baby Panda has to eat,
How else can Pandas grow?
He has to stand upon his feet,
To go where he must go!
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The measure of love, in truth, is this:
To treasure each sigh, close by, then kiss!
I've revelled each girl I yearn,
Just to discern
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