He does wander
I couldn't be fonder.
The paws are signing
He wants to be dining.
He walks on my keyboard
Because he's ignored.
He lies on my legs with a purr
While shedding all of his fur.
Cat
Tag: poem
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Slouching towards Bethlehem
Beauty
Beauty depends on magnitude & order – Aristotle
Beauty is pleasure paired with desire – Gaia Mouse
My Cat Is Cute (acrostic poem)
Marvelous soft fur
Your sharp teeth and
Claws may scratch my skin but whether you
Are running or meowing or sleeping you are
Tabby extraordinaire
Idly mischievous
So
Cute curled
Under the couch
That I don’t care if you claw the furniture
Either.
Yak
In those hills
In fact
The yak
If put in a sack
Knows how to quack
It’s just a simple
fact
– written in honor of Ogden Nash and Jack Prelutsky
water weaves waves
water weaves waves reflecting brick and weeds window refracting sun sprinkling light on playful crests weaving water waves
Poem Dice
full moon recall
dream
salt sea foam
clams scurry
dig themselves
into sand
as the waves recede
we are young
i wrap
burgundy and cobalt
gauze scarf
about my torso
my nipples show
i reach out
to touch
your silken sandy curls
as cigarette smoke
sinuously rises
your voice rumbles
weakens my knees
Transition: July 25, 2016
Dark night,
sea seeps into sky.
I make footprints,
sand soft against my soles,
soft against my soul,
dipping my feet
at the ocean’s edge.
First light fills the sea.
Sable brushes
against sky.
Ebony ripples
topped
by pale whitecaps.
Still,
the sea is monotonously calm.
One small wave
lands at my feet.
Clouds fall into horizon.
Sky grows lavender
and pale azure,
flaunts charcoal clouds.
Rain
comes.
I
walk.
East,
stirring of orange glow.
By my right shoulder,
moon peers through clouds.
Sandpipers descend
from
wherever they spend the night.
Feast on
tiny shoreline organisms.
Nimbly avoid
the sweep of waves.
Race forward
and back
from water’s edge.
Skim across the sand
in a motley crew,
in a ballet of
choice
&
fate.
Now,
Bach’s major chords.
Lemon, rose, violet commingle,
create
a path to the horizon.
Clouds consume rising mist.
West light expands.
Sun capers
in cloud mountain peaks,
rises from the sea.
Indigo clouds stretch,
unveil coral cumulous,
so fluffy
I could eat them.
Cloud column rises from sea,
lays against green sky.
Thunder crashes,
booms.
Lightening cracks open sky.
Heat leaps from sand.
Moist
heat
rises,
cocoons me.
North turquoise sky,
dusky blue ocean.
I turn south,
purple horizon,
salmon undercoat,
azure and lemon overlay.
Creation
every day.
gaia mouse 