Suddenly a large cat paw struck the fox and a fight transpired. they rolled around hissing and growling until the fox pinned the cat to the ground and said: "It did have to be like this we could have shared a chicken or two" the cat angered now: monkey flipped the fox and torn into him with it's claws, the fox ducked his head and ran for cover. Then the quail told the cat, "bob White" I knew you were a descent kinda cat. "Yeah the cat said I guess I am: by the way who is Bob White"?
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Recitative the mealworm narrator
the Cat; is a "castrato"
the hens is a Mezzo -Soprano
the Fox a Bass
The Quail range from Tenor to Baritone
The Puppies are tenors
the rabbitts are tenors and baritones too!
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Come the morning, we will shed
The tears of infants, painted red.
Mother's love can save the child
But not the mother from her death.
Soon the child will grow up hated,
then the voices soon abated,
when he finds wickedness in pleasure
And in blood, he finds a laugh
He is lost, they say, abandoned
Bastard child who fathers misfortune
He is crooked in his stature
Out of his jaw leaps a lie
Yet he carries out the sentence
Righteous man endures the torture
Of this world without a Father
Where the love of God shall die
Fear the son, lest he be joyous
In your twisted castrato chorus
Separating joy from voices
So that you can only cry
You will burn and starve and vomit
And your terror will be voiceless
Unless you embrace the hatred
And become as loved as I
A heckler in the audience
Makes his point out proud
In an audience of shadows,
The flesh and bone stand out
I’m willing to hear you out —
That other voice in my head
The benefit of the mightiest doubt —
No difference at all
Between said and unsaid
A puppet on the heartstrings
Can’t dance by himself
Just like the way a castrato sings
You’re glad it’s someone else
I’m ready to tuck you in—
That other voice in my head
One out of two of us sure to win
Here’s hoping it’s not
Some third-party instead
Oh no, not you again
I’ve heard all you have to say
You’re nobody’s king of conversation,
But some genius said
You could join the fray
That heckler in the audience —
Just so happens that he’s right
He’s the kindest of all my assailants
He’d walk me thru the most bitter night
CLOSE HARMONY
When young, I’d had an ambition
To join a close harmony group.
But, alas, as soon as I open my mouth,
I sound like an infant with croup
But I went for the audition,
Having gargled with TCP
And practiced my scales religiously,
From A right up to G
They listened quite politely
As I went through my repertoire.
Though I knew from their pained expressions,
I wasn’t going far
They said they’d never heard a voice
With quite so much vibrato.
But the only vacancy they had
Was for something called a castrato.
I looked it up on Google,
Before I went to bed,
And immediately decided
To be a poet instead
7th September 2021
"H" contest - new or old poems
Sponsor - Constance Le France
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