Tiger, Tiger...

The tiger's own reflection rose From gentle water crossed, The tiger saw it way up close, Yet something had been lost... He was as if a lonesome soul, His roar now soft not loud, As if somehow he lacked control, As if no longer proud... For years had come and years had gone And tigresses are rare, Till he found her, just soldier on, Still thinking life unfair... Yet come that day, his life would change, Perhaps a father soon, Though now, of course, such thoughts felt strange, This sunny afternoon... Was that a twinkle in his eyes Each time he thought of her? Or just reflection of his sighs And what may yet occur? The greatest test is patience, friend, The lonesome waiting game, Till finally it has to end, Then life's no more the same... Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2014. The poem is based on the magnificent wildlife painting by Stephen Gayford nb Google search: gayfordgallery Find more wildlife poems using Google search for the search phrase Stephen Gayford poetry.