In Hot Pursuit

The tiger rested, gently laid, Now in a placid mood, Until his belly sighed dismayed In hopes of some fresh food... So up he stood and stretched a while, His hunting ears alert And gone that tiger's placid smile, For main course and dessert... He slowly trod the ground he walked With one intent in mind, For his next meal would soon be stalked, As he sneaked up behind... The chase was on! He saw his prey! His coat was now a blur! His next meal mustn't get away! No, no! That can't occur! So like the wind that strikes the earth With storms of utmost rage, In hot pursuit his mighty girth Sped to its fastest stage! Then in the blinking of an eye, The dirty deed was done! To stave off each new starving sigh... One fed, he heard not one... Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011. The poem is based on the magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford called 'In Hot Pursuit'. More Stephen Gayford poems here: denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com