The stalking tiger crunches snow
Beneath his heavy frame,
Still biding time while hungers grow,
For him, life's not a game...
The Summer breezes now feel chilled,
White snow shines everywhere,
Such that his heart's no longer thrilled,
Because he doesn't care...
So hungers drive him on and on,
Relentless, without peace,
Until he's eaten and they're gone,
For some short time to cease...
For him, no easy street to walk,
He takes what he can get,
You see, he has no knife and fork,
No table, dinner set...
So who are we to criticise?
Our meals are cooked and hot!
The shops are where we buy supplies,
So we're not on the spot...
His shadow roams the forest still,
He hunts just to survive,
He hunts this day and always will,
That's how he stays alive...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2013.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Forest Shadow'.
Find more wildlife poems using Google search
for the search phrase Stephen Gayford poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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