Mrs. Bombastic
A tisket, a tasket
trailing mist ribbons
from her Easter basket
midsummer moonshine
mittens lost and found
then lost again by
kittens fiddling around
glowworm orb observes
green cheese moon man land
sing hey diddle diddle
to feline fiddler band
silently frolicking
Bastet hearth deities
Bombay amber eyes
Mord and Moishe kitties
Lunar Musicians
their mute jazz band wails
reflect harvest moon in
patent black coat and tails
larking in grayscale
hinterland twilight
no time for sleep in
mystic magic night
to color in vision
the painter brings her brush
I brought my pen to
poem ebullient hush
in honeycomb'd verses
weaving fabled spells
of sand covered kingdoms
inside wishing wells
once upon a rhyming
celestial story time
Tlingit elder waltz in
wild mountain thyme
Puss tippling catnip
Me, my jug of wine
a loaf and he beside
were paradise mine
till rain sneaks in on
Mist-blue kitty toes
Ohio's bank ore'flow
where pussywillow grows
wither shall we find
sweet sheltering repose?
pretty words blurred by
Windy Wendigos
my ballet shoes soiled
they will surely scold
wine turned to water
Moishe's feet are cold
Just we two must fend
Mord wisely went to bed
dreaming of cat treats
dancing in his head
but soft what light shines
In yon window faithfully
his front yard post light
calling Moishe and me?
nope, just me revolving
round memory carousel
kitchen table slideshow
where heaven hurts like hell
in recall I forget
wine tumbled on the floor
crying, holding tighter
just makes me lose more
Fact.
the elders have moved
ever farther away
I only see and hear
in grandkids at play.
I don't even dream about them anymore.
yet our beloved birds
hover o're me now
tiny elder sparks
my presence they allow
This bears more pondering.
I'll write on this more.
I'll think on this more.
I'll drink on this more.
Meanwhile, cue Narnian Reverie. Because Moishe's toes are freezing and he requires his tea.
A sardine toast feast
Tumnus laid for we
riding out the storm
the faun, the cat and me
sip from fairy tea cups
of dogwood petal pink
with fern frond saucers
gin and printer's ink
(there it is...)
Just a god and his girl
our silly ancient ways
strolling down Eden
and in and out of days
with love to Skinny Ape who introduced me to the faun.
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