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Cool Refuge

At last, a place to hide away, cool refuge from the sun...
Some solitude, a chance to stay, where nothing much gets done.
A perfect spot meant to beguile the busy beasts on Earth,
No more to worry for a while, for what is worry worth?
The sun was fierce and in his face. Too close for comfort, friend.
The tiger tried to slow the pace till he was on the mend...
And once his ears heard nothing new, he slowly closed his eyes
And lowly breathed and time just flew and caught him by surprise.
The sun had moved across the sky, now tired, in retreat.
The tiger didn't question why the sky eye lost its heat.
Enough to know his cool refuge would soon be cooler still...
His change in mood would then be huge and end this passing thrill.
The tiger tarried in repose with great tranquillity
And gently scratched his tickled nose with tingling ecstasy...
One final hour in the shade... his refuge then grew cold.
The sad decision must be made, now that the day grew old...
So up he stood, with strength renewed, recharged and vibrant now
And thankful for this interlude, vowed to return... somehow...


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Refuge'.

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