Sat on the ferryboat, up on the top,
Soaking the sun and the breeze.
Seeing the city a different way,
Like a tourist, there’s so much to please.
Cool buildings to spot and New Yorkers about,
On foot or on bikes or on skates,
With gardens and trees, dogs on leashes, as well
As the seagulls aloft with their mates.
The palpable buzz of a sweet sunny day
As the ferry skips over the waves
Casts a magical spell on the riders, which I
Would imagine most everyone craves.
(written upon the death at age 14 of our beloved shih tsu Max
on Aug. 11.)
Over ~
Over
The Bridge
where they go
To verdant eternal forests
and fields,
To run and leap free
Without leashes, reigns or chains…
All heaven blessed
With no hunger or thirst
While waiting for us.
I leave the door open
to the glass pane storm door
so the cat can see…
see the squirrels
see the rabbits
see the cats
see the chipmunks
see the birds
see the dogs on leashes
see the possums at night
see the birds of prey hovering above
see the leaves as they fall
see the weeds as they grow
see the wind blow in its majesty
I leave the door open
to the glass pane storm door
so the cat can see…
Or is it really just for…
me to see the cat enjoying life?
The sun still spills on the oranges' skin,
Bright as the lies we bury within.
The sea is patient, the palms still sway,
But silence gathers at the edge of the bay.
How many rules must the warm wind bear
Before it forgets how to kiss the air?
They scribble statutes in hurried ink—
Do they ever pause long enough to think?
Children dream under moonlit skies,
While lawmakers trade in their lullabies
For leashes on thought and tide.
Liberty wilts when shadows need not hide.
Let me lie down where the wild birds go,
Far from the noise of the men who know.
A law for this, a law for that—
But none to hush the diplomat.
Oh Florida, must you cage the breeze?
My whirligigs are spinning;
The trees are all a’sway.
The dafs, with blooms beginning,
Bow their heads in mock dismay.
The windsock strips are dancing;
The bushes are a’bounce,
The dogs on leashes prancing,
Swishing tails an added flounce.
As I sit here with my writing,
While the sunshine’s all a’peek,
Rhyming words have been alighting
To allow my thought to speak.
A sh**load of sparrows
Dancing on the wires
Spots on my truck
A howling of leashes
Domesticated torture
A cat hisses
A cacophony of phrases
A drumming of woodpeckers
Shouting – quiet please
Unopened flowers
A menagerie of metaphor
Optical conclusions
winter wolves have eaten the tulips
the wind has pawed and pillaged
small dogs strain on their leashes
a summer storm has ice in its veins
warner airs arrived too late
to save the groundhogs litter
bitter are the fruits
of this fanged season
A pampered poodle in Beverley Hills
browses Rodeo Drive for her thrills
Jeweled dog bowls she'll seek
and silk leashes tres chic
Her owner smiles --Just hand me the bills
2/27/23
It's nolonger a matter of chatter
Folk better walk the talk
No man can tether the weather
But can save himself some stock and flock
Gather honour for the Heavenly Father
His fire to stoke and to wear His cloak
So that as the year will further, His blessings will lather
Best wishes though just but wishes
May they come true to you, you and certainly you
May you tread without leashes and swim like fishes
That much you may do and profit too
Take what life teaches and what devotion reaches
Eat of the year's bread and stew, drink of its rivers and dew
Have all that the heart cherishes and the mind relishes
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2023 ????????
K. Muitherero
The sky is blue, the river’s gray
And autumn leaves are on display.
The buildings ‘cross the river hide
Whatever’s going on inside.
The flags all flutter, strung up high
And bicycles go rolling by.
The dogs, on leashes, bark or yip,
Their owners tightening their grip.
A mighty tugboat pulls a barge;
A nanny strolls by with her charge.
The joggers, dressed for summer, pass
As couples sprawl out on the grass.
A lovely autumn afternoon –
This weather will be gone real soon,
So I’ll enjoy it while I can,
For who knows Mother Nature’s plan?
The air is cold, the sun is warm;
In autumn, sometimes that’s the norm.
The river’s choppy; white caps break
As speed boats trail a frothy wake.
The sky is clear, just wisps of cloud,
The promenade devoid of crowd.
A spotted lanternfly alights,
A stomp preventing future flights.
The leaves, still green, sway in the breeze,
Not ready to abandon trees,
As dogs on leashes stop and sniff
Then circle back for one more whiff.
A sunny Sunday’s what I’ve got
To rest up from my Covid shot
And as I watch the ferries glide,
I’m grateful for a seat outside.
i pray for better days
damona prays for another bone
i pray for damona's health and well being
damona prays for the safety of our next home
i pray for the strength of our underfed bodies to remain intact
damona prays for the lawful elimination of all leashes
i pray for those whose situations are far worse than ours
damona prays for those who are still skin and bones from extreme malnourishment
then we feel God nodding towards a particular area
then we see a man tattered and weary
with the money i made doing odd jobs here and there, i buy the man soup, crackers, and water
i bless the middle aged man with this gift and a five dollar bill
the man thanks us and wishes us Many Blessings and Safe Travels
i reply by wishing for God to Smile on him
as i wave to say goodbye, the man rubs damona's head and softly says 'He Already Has'
Chester CatMaster, a nature wizard,
cast a few spells upon some lazy lizards;
chanting “Meow-chi-nik-de-nook-do-kangi”,
he turned them into various fungi.
There were Buttons and ake,
Puffballs, Polypores and maitake;
Hedgehog, Earpiks and Penny Buns,
Old Chester was having so much fun.
Chester had given them legs of their own,
around and around him, they all did roam.
He held onto their roots like little leashes,
this sight left me quite shockingly speechless.
There he stood with the fungi all dancing around,
I believe he considered them to be little clowns.
Then he did something that had me surprised,
he planted them into the ground and fertilized.
Turned their legs into roots that held them in place,
I looked and he had a huge smile on his face.
He said he was planting a yard full of trees,
the fungi helped them to communicate with ease.
Warding off dangerous insects is vital;
fungi are helping trees do it in cycles.
Chester CatMaster is simply the best;
his Fungi will always outdo the rest.
Fear leashes unforeseen harpoons
when faith flees to the hold.
Wind gauges possible typhoons,
purser murmurs threefold...
fractures in the bulkhead
sailors stymied by dread
damage and death ahead
Fear leashes anxiety;
Faith can anchor urgency.
October 21, 2021
The middle three lines are a leash, a set of three
Magnolia and pink mimosa
garden path with swollen dirt
from pop-up storms.
Cloud cover’s pleasant,
slightly sultry.
I, the adult,
adjure my joints to sport.
Delight of finger flowers,
red trumpet bling,
along the meander
of old man creek.
Kids of Summer,
dip thigh-deep,
‘neath the wooden bridge.
Swings seizing the edge,
slides a-whiz,
rainbow puddles.
Pleasantries exchanged
between adults
with perceptive eyes
and wry smiles.
Unleashed from indoors,
pups pull on their leashes
desperate to be kids.
6/28/2021
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