SAM THE SQUIRREL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam the Squirrel had a hunger profound
In a park, he was often found,
With nuts in his cheeks so tight,
He scurried with all his might,
But alas, his appetite had no bound.
One day, as he climbed up so high,
In a tree with a nut-laden sky,
Saw bird feeder, what a sight!
'Twas filled with a feast, a delight,
"This snacking's too good to pass by!"
With a cleverness that took them aback,
He pilfered birds’ seeds in munchy attack,
Birds squawked and complained quite loud,
Sam the Squirrel was quite proud,
His cunning had earned him smorgasbord snack.
"What are you all quacking about?" squawked Reginald Cluck,
Peering from his coop, quite out of luck.
A drizzle had started, a timid, soft weep,
While others still snoozed in feathery sleep.
"A little rain never hurt anyone!" chirped Pip,
Whose splash-prone spirit rarely would slip.
He’d eye every puddle, a shimmering pond,
With a gleam in his eye, quite remarkably fond.
Reginald scoffed, adjusted his comb,
"Such soggy affairs! I prefer my dry home."
He’d seen the contest poster, a splashy delight,
But preferred his reflections, all polished and bright.
Then a gust, unexpected, a mischievous sigh,
Tumbled Reginald forward, right under the sky.
He landed with grace, in a puddle so grand,
A most dignified splish across the wet land.
His feathers, now plastered, his dignity skewed,
He blinked at his image, delightfully new.
"Let's do the chicken splash!" he suddenly cried,
As the "Mystic Rose" whispered, "Don't hide your wet side!"
And so Reginald Cluck, once a skeptic so stiff,
Discovered true joy in that watery whiff.
He kicked up a fountain, a most glorious spray,
Proof that a puddle can brighten your day.
Occasionally the weather forecast can be of help: by poet
Does the sky and the sea have a mind of their own?
It was a tranquil day. I started the motor
Of my boat and headed out in the bay.
Suddenly all changed.
Sky became overcast and heavy.
The sea became restless.
Gulls squawked above me in derision.
My heart felt sick.
Waves pounded my fragile boat.
Would it take long to reach a haven?
I pointed my boat toward the bay.
At least, the motor worked.
Alas I was no great sailor.
The waves were against me.
I found myself in the sea.
Good thing I was a strong swimmer,
And the beach was very nearby.
I dragged myself up but nearly fainted.
Emily came up with a bottle of water.
She knelt near me and lifted my face on her lap
And washed the sand away and made me drink.
The rain was now only a drizzle.
I sat up and looked at her face.
Her eyes glimmered. Her luscious lips half open.
Impulsively I kissed her hard, our lips burning.
Instantly “The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire".
Placed 3
" The blue jay is seen as a powerful spirit messenger."- Author unknown
It was a cold fall morning as the leaves swirled in the crisp windy air
I decided to walk in the cemetery and chose the path that was bare
A crow cackled and a blue jay squawked loudly and they carried on
Ignoring them as I thought of the day you were taken and now gone
I sat on the bench overlooking your gravestone and felt such raw despair
A blue jay landed on the bench as I searched for closure and shed a tear
Note this poem was written some time ago but I was sick and deleted my site. I have been patiently reposting my poems since 9 October 2000.
On November 13, 2002. The Prestige, one of twelve tanks burst during a storm off Galicia, in northwestern Spain. No help was forthcoming and by November 19, the ship split in half. 20 million gallons were spilled into the sea.
Beneath the heavy dark clouds,
the storm broke.
An oil-filled tanker sank
spewing black lakes of murderous slime.
What a giant "Prestige"!
Despite the roar of untamed waves
there was a deadly hush over the ocean.
A low death knell sang a purgatory of pain,
as contaminated birds of gulls, orioles, kestrels
squawked their last dirge:
What a giant "Prestige"!
Too late men stretched their ingenuity,
a desire to save and spare
the livelihood of so many families
that sailed the oil-spilled seas,
where baby dead fish dotted the surface,
sands and rocks tainted with death.
Elsewhere engineers burned their chemical gases
and smoke escaped from the earth's fragile shell.
We all have our "Prestige"!
Written 2016
Coming from within a rising hedge
Of voluptuous white oleander –
I sensed a turmoil; one writhe
Seduced better than before
And within the naked boughs
Of some palo verde – in a rustle
Of few leaves – I thought I saw
Among them a potential
So quick and sullen, I almost not
Deemed it worthy a mention
Until a lone grackle squawked
That vernal suspicion
Then the wind flirted with a sage
Whose mane shimmied – fervid –
As if the breath of Earth had encouraged
Spring to dance for him.
Someone hurt monster's feelings, so he decided to eat.
He ate a toaster, cord and all, quite a great treat.
Devoured a couple of chickens, one with two crooked feet.
Slathered up a bowl of gravy with carrots and one beat.
Monster was still sad, so he ate a 1956 Chevy car seat.
A Wal-mart greeter who forgot to greet,
a sheep without a voice, a pathetic feat.
A fleecy comforter, and a worn out old bed sheet.
Still felt hurt, so he decided to add a yellow parakeet.
The parakeet squawked, so he let it fly up the street.
Someone gave him a ham hock, so now he had some meat.
He is still upset, so he continues to eat….
The pigeons and seagulls were having a fight.
(Reporters might call it the “Gray versus White.”)
Lined up on the railing, awaiting some food,
There seemed to be tension, an ominous mood.
Since in that location, for year after year,
The pigeons have roosted; they’ve made their career
Of circling over the benches to wait
For the lady who feeds them, a sunrise-time date.
But lately, the seagulls have gotten the word
Of this ritual, squawked and relayed bird to bird,
So the railing’s been crowded as it’s ever been
With the early morn quiet disturbed by the din.
The fight wasn’t physical; no feathers flew,
Though the circular flying meant double the poo.
As I passed on my walk, I just hoped that my luck
Would hold out or you might hear me yelling out – duck!
Ever since the time began souls have learned to fly
sea legs frozen like the sky have you ever wondered why
that center core you call your heart never leaves your side
long before you talked your soul never whined or squawked
it only listened from inside where you tried to hide
That little thing you call your psyche, is a work of art !
Listen to its nudge and pull it will tell you when its full
conscience smart it whispers pure if you let it cure
That little soul that guides, should never be an aftermath
Ever since the time began, souls have learned to cope
it's the one thing always there, born to gift you hope.
I felt a probe of feline eyes
While Merlin stretched on sun-drenched sill;
He mentioned he dislikes cat-guise
And yearned to be a wizard still,
Then, thanking for adopting him,
He scratched his bell-and-collared neck,
Admitting it was not a whim
That brought him on this cross-time-trek.
From sun-filled spot he gave a hop
But clang and tumbled to his face--
I jump, he laughed, but cannot stop,
So wish to be a hawk with grace;
Now come, dear Wart, let's rise and soar
Look down and watch clogged traffic snake,
Behold man's plight: crime, hate, and war,
Don't let this be the world you make …
Alighting in a foggy wood,
Smudged, angry faces chided me:
Pull sword from stone, lad, if you could
And king to us you'll ever be!
How lonely this, my providence,
Gruff crowd, where's Merlin? … tell me how!
Cold hilt in hand, new confidence:
That hawk just swooped and squawked "meow".
October 18, 2022
Merlin The Magic Cat Poetry Contest
Mystic Rose Rose, Sponsor
Morning crows in flight
Squawked loudly for all to hear
Listen wake up call
Heidi Sands
7/28/22
The lamb cried
The egg fried
The man worked
A woman smirked
The leaf fell
The merchant will sell
The lady cooked
The trembling girl shook
The bird.squawked
A woman walked
A dog barked
A car parked
A tired shopper
A long skirt is proper
The wind whistled
The bell indicated dismissal
The sun shone in the midst of winter
A boy cried because of a splinter
I watched the “news” this morning.
Chicken Little ran around squawking
Two women talked amiably after describing
scenes of horrific violence.
A homeless puppy was found
cared for and now needs a “forever” home.
Thousands called in looking to adopt it.
A homeless veteran was stepped over
in the entrance to a shelter
he/she was not cared for or allowed entrance.
Three kittens sang “Jingle Bells”
Chicken Little squawked a bit more
Climate change, global warming yadayada
The weather persons told me of storms
in the Midwest, floods in the south and
high temps in Arizona….
I had to look out my window
to get the weather report here.
The station manager made a Public Service Announcement.
Paraphrased : “If you’d all just do as you’re told
everything would be just fine”.
(the commercials were for Erectile disfunction, tampons,
birth control and condoms….oh….and childrens breakfast cereal))
John G. Lawless
1/4/2022
Two seagulls perched upon the rail
This morning, by the river.
The one with ruffled feathers
Had a message to deliver.
He tilted back his head and squawked,
His partner keeping quiet.
Whatever he was yelling,
It appeared she didn’t buy it.
Walking on eggshells,
with left-over scratches,
Brave little chick
into the world hatches...
managed to scramble away with a limp--
those eggshells, (and mama)
did a number on Shrimp.
Fifty years after, mama's still kicking,
pecking Shrimp's feathers off,
when no one's looking--
Some of her feathers are plucked to the bone-
her skin is bleeding,
she feels so alone.
Mama, she swore that ol'
Shrimp was an odd one,
just a non-Certifiable, sad
Family Problem.
Why, Shrimp was a Horrible, terrible Liar,
such a Bad chicken,
(and an awful flyer!)
But despite the hate,
Shrimp flew higher!
"We can't have that!!"
shrieked the old chicken, cackling
"Let's give her some
Chicken scratch,
and send this one packing!"
Shrimp walked away sad,
but then she got better,
She knows she's not bad,
(despite the mean letter.)
Yes, despite the hate,
Shrimp grew bigger!
"We can't have that!!"
squawked the old chicken Liver,
"I'll give Shrimp her
Chicken scratch,
and give her the boot!"
but Shrimp's feathers shine brighter,
now that she's flown the coop.
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