The Resting Place

A fallen tree was found one day As one young tiger strolled And that was where he chose to stay To let tense claws unfold... The sun was shining, gliding past, Just like each day before, Yet there below he found at last A place to rest each paw. The tiger's whiskers lowered down, Like tiny twigs at ease, While peace began to melt each frown Amid a soothing breeze... This was the life! For him, at least: No hunger, thirst or fear. Like music to the savage beast, His thoughts were crystal clear... A fallen tree, well past its prime, While sad, still served him well. To him, a precious place sublime, Where he could pause a spell... Let others chase their tails around! Let others build their nests! For him, a paradise was found... No wonder that he rests... Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011. The poem is based on the magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford called 'The Resting Place'. More Stephen Gayford poems here: denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com