By Rondo, Poet and Balladeer
Well friends. I've been busy doing my poetry thing... and with the arrival of Spring my fertile brain has turned to critters that fascinate kitties.
Of birds and bees have I much written
And more there is to say
But other creatures delight me too
‘Tis time they had their day.
Now let me tell you, one of the critters we won't be writing poems of here is Moths. They have been discussed extensively in our very first blog, Moth Day so no need to rehash that at this time.
Living so many floors above ground level you would assume that we don't get critters in here but let me tell you.... it isn't so. Of course, we expect the bees, bugs, butterflies and birds attracted to the garden pots but not the creepy critters like ants, centipedes and spiders. These are the ones Grammy takes issue with...especially the first two... and dispatches PDQ. But the ones to follow are our favourites. They are such entertaining beasties.
One you'll notice came from eavesdropping on a conversation between MP of Many Claws, Momma in Alabama and Grammy, thus the listening in part. You'll see what I mean when you read Poem 3.
So, here goes...
There is a creature I do adore
It grows in stages; There are four.
Egg to larva that crawls and eats
At pace no other creature beats
Leaves and such to gain its strength
For stage three – when at length
Its skin reforms and dormant seems.
But ‘cased inside are magic dreams
That to outsiders make no sense
For shell they see, ‘tis plain and dense.
Yet within a subtle change is made
As soup reforms the old will fade
‘Til nestled safe within the shell
That soon will ope’, will soon dispel
A delicate beauty. As it uncurls
It’s newborn self, it will unfurl
As heart its veins infuse
Gossamer wings of many hues.
And when the wings are held up high
We'll see a wondrous Butterfly.
Lady bug is one more of note
To me she seems a tiny joke.
On wings of red and body black
How does she stay aloft? How then
She lights upon the flower?
Yet light she does on buzzing wing
Not red as thought but hid below
Ailerons unfold to fly her
To nibble on delicious thing.
Juicy aphid on whom you dine
In haste has changed nymph to brine.
Wee bug of lady-name I write
We cats as hunter, bug as prey
More fun to tease; more to play
Not like to eat you, bitter thing
Though if not careful, lose a wing.
And finally as told by RAINA BlueMoon’s momma and put into verse by Rondo.
Ode to a Wee Mouse
O sorry wee mouse whose heart Cat ate
I’d watched you yonder by the gate
You scampered under distant hedge
Up the drive and to the ledge
Of our front door. Then foolish you
Your doom was set; you entered through
To Cat’s domain. Regret your step
Too late ‘twas noted as she leapt.
Into her lair was your mistake
Noon repast was uncommonly late.
Your tail she caught, then you, dispatched.
Distraught? Not she. Your heart detached
Swiftly slid down slippery slope.
Savoury morsel, you had no hope.
Cat left the rest as proud she was
To furnish meal for the one she loves
She set it tastefully upon the mat
Before the chair where I was sat.
So sad was I; there was no heart
But Cat responded with hearty fart.
© Whiskers, Mouse, Sweetie, Etude & Rondo - Mischief and Mayhem Central
Comments are welcomed. Let's keep it light and fun.
Five Cats, Five Personalities, One Goal - Mischief & Mayhem.