the gray cat, Tempus, in doldrums
lazes, purring, stretching.
I have watched him.
Cunning eyes half-closed,
he stalks bright birds in the garden,
near day lilies.
Wings wet from flights
through the sprinkler's sweeps,
the birds swoop, glide, flutter.
They light on dry grass,
strut and shake themselves,
are lulled. Then,
Tempus pounces on one bird.
The rest are routed…
And Tempus fugit.
"Why," thought the cat,
"can I see through the glass,
but when I try to go through it,
it won't let me pass?"
"There are bugs out there,"
the cat thought to himself,
"yet to them, I'm as dull as
a book on a shelf!"
The cat shook his head,
"This is really too much!
There's two squirrels in the yard
and a bird in the brush."
"How much fun it would be,"
with a mew he announced,
"to hunt and to stalk and then
"Why, I'd shake them until
their necks were broke!
Maybe then," mused the cat,
"I'd be more than a joke."
"They'd be amazed by my prowess,"
he thought with a sigh,
"I'd torture them slowly and
they'd wonder why,"
"they never realized that
I was a threat,
while completely ignoring me
like I was their pet."
"I'd show them," he growled
as he laid on the sill,
"with them in my tummy,
I'd savor the kill."
"They'd show some respect,"
he thought with a yawn,
"I'd shown them who's king
of this yard and this lawn."
Head full of adventure,
he fell fast asleep,
safe in his house,
with plenty to eat.
The fire alarm went off
Water sprinklers came on
Near pups will not writeoff
Pups are my obsession
The floor and walls hotter
Dry hot air_no way out
Get faint start to totter
There's crash on door without
Master early today
He will care for me_pups
We can count on him to stay
His love grows in all ways
It's not him crash through door
He spots me; as I survey him
Shiver with pups on floor
He reaches_ touches rim
Container where pups lay
Places in pocket on coat
Fireman works swiftly this day
Concerned person take note
Who's here_need to be moved
Swiftly fireman moves now
To safety takes them improved
Flames leap; gone_ puppy chow
My life_pups was limited
Our time totally up
To be annihiliated
Fireman saved me _pups
My one_ only method
To say to him thanks_thanks
Is loving kiss slipshod
As he pets my scorched flank
(slipshod in this case:careless or messy)
I am a living being
With eyes that see
With ears that hear
but I have fur
and you have hair
I am a living being
but you have nails
and I have claws
and you have hands
but I have paws
I am a living being
I feel sadness, happiness
loneliness and pain
We are living beings
In some ways we're the same
The sentinel cats
Guard post tip top of the house
Growing winter coats
< beneath swollen ..... moon
in pasture of...... rolling hills
standing ....hind quarters
a beautiful black ...... stallion
simply took my breath ........ away
A Memory Of Beauty
THEY graze in beauty on the land
of grassy glades and dewy dales,
and all that's best of dark and tanned
meets in their aspect and their tails;
thus mellowed to that tender hand
which Shepherd to gentle glen compels.
One fleece the more, one hair the less,
had half repaired the shearless grace
which wreathes in every woolen tress
or darkly tightens o'er their face,
where mouths serenely sweet express
how pure, how dear their grazing-place.
And on that rump and o'er that round
so strong, so firm, yet elegant,
the baas that win, the hooves that bound,
but tell of days in meadows spent—
a flock at peace with all around,
a drove whose milk is innocent.
01/26/2014, "First Poem On Soup" Contest
Some sounds like the noise of bees
Hovering around the atmosphere
Or like rain drops on our roof tops,
I opened my round window
The window of my hut,
I wanted to know
Why my sleep won't mellow,
All i saw was sorrow
As the atmosphere turned green.
The cassava farm was over shadowed
Banana plantation feebled,
Apple orchard struggled
Yet their efforts stifled,
Lemon grass for mama's herb withered,
Rose flower shattered and our
Groundnut farm tattered.
Suddenly,the green army fled,
Tears exuded from my eyes
As i sputtered in pain,
Mother filled with melancholy,
Father tore his heart in grief
Villagers hope captured and crippled,
So their travail displayed as
Everyone mourned over
The locust plaque.....
BY: CHARLES MELODY (LIGHTNING INK).
The puppy’s eyes were huge and sad.
His tail a drum did beat within my head.
His whimper a sound from which I could not part.
His posture defeated struck upon my heart.
His expectations high. His whimpers slow.
Within his cage he lays submissively low.
I could not walk away when invited in by eyes so bright.
I reached low to scratch his ears and touch his head so light.
Upon my hand he did drool, as his tongue did lick to know.
Then he held me in his mouth so tight as not to let me go.
A connection felt, a gentle hand, a belly rub a treat.
I knew to hold him close- my heart made whole again would beat.
Forever mine whispered in my ear. I could not let him go.
Unconditional love to feel- I could not look away, so
Our heart beat once- then twice again in unison unique.
Without a doubt- one way to go- my heart does tightly seek.
I know to take him home- my life would be so sweet.
One dog has died. Now another found. My life continues still.
New hopes and dreams- to home we go as life proclaims its’ fill.
But his friend sits shivering, as we prepare to leave.
My heart grows suddenly still. To look, to see, my heart to believe
One is good, but two is best- two hearts my love can shield.
Toward my home we turn again- three hearts to joyfully yield.
Once a house- now a home we will successfully build.
So if a shelter you do pass, stop a moment to see…
Perhaps a loved one waits inside, if a loving home you have a need...
Two field mice took a walk one day
Then feeling tired, they'd walked a ways
They thought they'd stop and rest a while
For home was further on some miles.
Then they heard the pad of old Toms paws
Which spooked them quite a bit I'm sure
As the cat purred loudly to see the mice
And thought "a meal it would be nice!"
Their whiskers quivered nervously
As, our two mice made haste to flee
So off they scampered for their lives
As old Tom cat for them did strive
That old cat looked he, high and low
And where they were he didn't know
As the two they trembled neath a bush
They could almost touch that mean old puss.
Then Tom gave up and skulked away
And the two mice lived another day
And their lungs filled up with gratitude
They'd foiled that old tom cat, so rude.
Peace, Socrares Dec 2 2003