When I am breathing

I get no attention

But when I am not

I have everyone’s affection.

Shrieking is thankfully absent
here
but seagulls come close to screaming
intermittent loud sky surfers
out across the sea.

Voices are mainly creatures other than Man,
and of course the winds who by their absence
some days
seem to sing even louder next time
because of the silence.

I am in love with poets
so unique
I can hardly keep a grip
poets are my lovers

incognito, hiding beneath, their songs

I hear you poet
I hear  you

can you hear me?

Windy November day
Kept inside by the warm embrace
Of heaters
And soft clothes
Scents fill the air
Permeate me
Fill me up
Mushrooms in a sauce pan
Pungent slices of green
Pumpkin
Light a candle to ward off tears
Smoke and steam meet
Like lovers in the air
Warm folds of grey and gold
Wrap up slanted eyes
And silken midnight fur
The gentle thrum of a feline chest
Keeps time with a
Cribbage board
Butter melts
The soft crackle of frying things
The gentle fragrance of tea
Three women together
While winds rage outside
Leaves, stripped from trees
Litter the sodden ground
Rain patters down
Tops of trees dance
But inside
We are warm
And together
And for that, I am thankful