The tiger walked a lonesome path,
No partner at his side,
Not one on guard on his behalf,
To serve as friend or guide...
The only eyes and ears were his,
His solemn thoughts unmatched,
His purposes could go amiss
Unless his plans were hatched...
That's why he crossed the land once more,
Its secrets to unfold
And not to merely go explore,
Pretending to look bold...
Yet to the human eyes at least,
A nomad he would seem,
In fact, he was a patient beast,
Till sad times got extreme...
When such times came, each tiger ran,
Pursued his prey till caught,
To do what only tigers can
Without a single thought...
When tigers walk, don't be confused,
Don't think they're tired out,
The second that their power's loosed,
Thus ends their walkabout...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2015.
Poem based on a magnificent wildlife painting,
by artist Stephen Gayford nb Google-search
gayfordgallery and 'Stephen Gayford poetry'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem