The Horse and the Cat

Where are you bound cat?
Asked a horse in dulcet tones
Why ask you?
Are you interested in my goings
or comings?
The cat replied.
You, puss,
the horse whinnied.
are too impertinent for my liking!
You – dear horse – are too ignorant for a horse.

This said, the cat rubbed it’s body about the great calves of the equine!
And you, generous feline, are too
bold for a creature of your minority.
Shall we walk?
The cat moved off,
the horse followed.

What a glorious day!
Remarked the cat as they wandered
out to rolling landscapes.
I agree.
Was the horses only exclamation.
Now shall we not continue?
The cat seemed restless.
No; you are correct!

A cloud enveloped them
and the horse,
(in its giant monstrosity)
and the cat,
(in its sly minority)
became one.

The mighty sun beat down on vacant stables
Through the dark our moon glowed on nights effluent stream.

March

This balmy March night
is sweetly delicious
A purple-filled, cloud-coloured sky
saturated in pollen
Licks at my face
Caressing and exciting me
a carefree jubilant love, warm
enticing and gorgeously fresh!

How about this night
so lithe and fascinating
Spectral whirs of light
and smells fill my head
as the sky whirs on.
Sweet sweet March.
Yum.

Autumn 2016

Apparently it’s autumn in Otham
Though nobody’s told the sun
A parched carpet of crunchy leaves
Adding the “Shh” to our school run

Crunchy leaves

Red Sunset

Damn that deep red sun sets hard

Drowning days light in the tide of the dark

Sending in pink blushes of clouds last breaths

Triumph eternal in hourly deaths

June

We’re finally at the end of the crazy-June! Leaving us still with 2 months of silly season (English summer) to go… Where that will take us who can possibly know?!

June Oh June

With your bitch, full, blue moon.
You run on in pieces
in drips so drab
and break up the fun
that we waited to have.
You tyrannous slut
of a month
– Cat June!

Bringing the promise of sun and fun
to dash them and crush us –
you run on and run.
So you’ll guess I’m not pleased with you;
guess we’re not growing
to love your foul days of rain,
while you hide the suns glowing!

Oh June.
Oh my.
What have you become
now so late and wet
were you once called the sun?
I cry for you, baby
and the tears sting my cheeks!
I cry everyday
through your long blasted weeks.

Beck sun

This is an updated post from 2012…

Musical Dawn

When that Black thatch
with them Blue eyes
shook the old cat
out of White lies:
Swiftly all the noise
of morning broke.

And this Grey crowd
full of Red heads
caught great Pink clouds
‘cross their cold beds…
And it dawned on!

Then tears soaked each side
and washed all colours clean
bleaching each bright with pride
– shining through what they mean:
Only the Gold sun left reflections
on this gory scene.

Grey Air

Clouds announce their entrance
as they camouflage the sun.
Though I know that they are many,
their appearance is as one…

A coldly breeze envelopes me
then follows certain rain:
This does not cast a cloud o’er me –
I’ll know the sun again.