Category Archives: animals

Never skip breakfast…

 (a villanelle)

How many animals are there
Teeming before my hungry eyes?
By this point, I don’t even care.

Just cause I’m single, it’s not fair
To choose me. Don’t you realize
How many animals are THERE?

All I’ve done, all day, is to stare,
Then name each beast. I can’t disguise
By this point I don’t care

If the names make sense. I might dare
To skip some! Tell me, O Most-Wise:
How many animals are there

That I can grill medium-rare?
Names can wait! Just serve ‘em with fries.
By this point I don’t even care.

There’s only so much I can bear
Before I start to fantasize.
How many animals are there?
By this point I don’t even care.

To share with friends over at the marvelous dVerse Poets Pub.


Mr Paganini goes on the tiles

(A silly fable written to a prompt over at the wonderful Poetic Bloomings site.)

As Paganini stumbled
Through the ancient stable door
His haughty countenance crumbled
Before the congregation on that floor.

A dozen stallions strong and fleet
Were breathing on his nose
While all around his trembling feet
Stood arching rows…

Of cats! Their green eyes blinking
With a look so fierce and bright
That Paganini started thinking
They were spoiling for a fight.

The atmosphere grew bolder
As a Siamese stalked near
And jumped up on his shoulder
To whisper in his ear,

“It’s come to our august attention
That your musical career
Has caused too much pain to mention
For the members gathered here.

The bow you boast is magical
To spin music without fail
Is only fully functional
At the cost of a flowing tail,

While the singing strings you love to stroke
To drive the ladies nuts
Can only really be baroque
Thanks to someone’s mother’s guts!”

A noisy chorus raised the roof
Of that bucolic dive
Presenting him the awful proof
He’d not escape alive

The violinist trembled
And sank down to his knees
Before all those assembled
Mewing pitifully, “Please!…”

But the angry crowd came forth in packs
With cries of “hiss!” and “neigh!”
And on a hundred hairy backs
They carried him away

Ten miles, before they cut him loose
With a note clear and nefarious:
“Leave off your animal abuse,
Or we’ll bust your Stradivarius!”

Next morning he awakened
In an empty country lane;
His night had left him shaken,
He swore he’d never drink again.

But just as a matter of careful course
After this nocturnal spat
He lavished sugar on his horse
And was nice to every cat.

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