Relaxed, Too...

When tigers walk around a lot, They find a spot to rest, Because the sunshine's way too hot And they don't feel so blessed... It's then their bodies slump and fall, Collapsing in a heap, As if they've really done it all And soon it's time for sleep... But tigers drag the whole thing out, With eyelids drooping down, With reputations still in doubt As who deserves the crown... Yet sleep proves stronger, night or day, So sleepy time soon wins, When tiger heads begin to sway, Siesta time begins... When tiger heads can't strain upright, Defeat surrounds each one, No need for blankets, wrapped up tight, They melt beneath the sun... Though tigers stride this Earth so proud, They doze off, both eyes closed, Perhaps to dream upon a cloud Of times they used to boast... Denis Martindale, copyright October 2015. Poem based on a magnificent wildlife painting, by artist Stephen Gayford. Google-search gayfordgallery and 'Stephen Gayford poetry'.