This Spring was already in the forecast
The date set with years of knowledge
Forcing freshness with a thaw
Poets “play off an idea” and it is raw.
Deleted, rewritten with nary a sigh
More words we seek
At odd hours of the night
For The Greats we did not write
We peek
At the words which rhyme.
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Reading and writing...


To take risks is to enjoy life more fully! More than a routine--pick up a book and challenge yourself!

The Deluging of Cats

With the blinds not drawn shut anymore
Unknown was what the cats tore.
I open then to the brilliant outdoors
Awaiting birds complaining about my vacuum
cleaner
Visualizing the cats stretching leaner
Not one in sight, not one critter.
The muffled sound has scared the birds from the
feeder
The sweeper has an inferno inside with a smell
There is no time for a dinner bell
The night beckons my shady house
As I relish my glue-trap victory over a mouse
A small cat lumbers like a big cat by the sliding
glass door
It is protected by the dark when we snore
That cat gives protection to the neighborhood on
the prowl.
The deluge of cats over wildlife—the dogs did
not howl.
That cat would have jumped a mile if it could,
Now contemplate the night of the cat if you
would—
The end of the feline’s fast.
As hope sprang, so did the cat
A predator of nature’s wrath.