Arctic Sun

Wrapped up within his blanket fur, The white wolf looks serene, The arctic sun makes him a blur, Pristine and oh so clean... And while he's there, not here with you, You're safe as safe can be, To zoom in through your camera's view, To see what you can see... He looks like Lassie painted white, Quite harmless, don't you think? He looks refined and most polite, But wait until you blink... For in a moment, he can stand And run from there to here... And suddenly, he'll shake your hand And shake your heart with fear.... Appearances deceive us all, Sometimes you just can't tell... It's only when you hear wolves call, That beauty casts no spell... It's then that Nature's rules enforce Her laws by night and day... To tell us, who has teeth and claws, The hunter or the prey? Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2009. The poem is based on the magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford called 'Arctic Sun'.