First Born

The first born tiger cub that day Had no idea at all, Just like the rest, he chose to play, To tumble and to fall... In time, he learned to stand up straight And look Dad in the eye, Acknowledging his Dad was great, Oh, my, oh, my, oh, my! Yet tiger cubs must grow and grow, That's just the way life is, Who knew what strengths he had to show, What things would go amiss? His destiny was years ahead, For now, he just chewed tails And filled the other cubs with dread, Like other alpha males... Then came respect, less fights, less brawls, Less bickering and such, As if a time of miracles Had kept them all in touch... First born or not, his stripes were earned, He did things well, somehow, He's turned out right by what he's learned, He's quite the tiger now... Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2014. The poem is based on the magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford, nb Google search gayfordgallery. Find more wildlife poems using Google search for the search phrase Stephen Gayford poetry.