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. Mischief and Mayhem Central 2020
4 Comments
4/16/2018 10:22:28 am
Hearty fart...
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Rondo, poet and balladeer
4/16/2018 10:43:11 am
Seville, ol' pal. I knew that you'd like that one! Like Andy we think Cat didn't care what one she loved felt about the missing heart!
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Terry Loftin
4/16/2018 03:04:44 pm
RAINA~Good one RONDO!Momma was as heartless as the present I left her recently!She did not appreciate my heartfelt gift!Sigh....
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4/16/2018 03:51:45 pm
Dear Raina.
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