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the song of the nightingale
touches my soul
so hauntingly
beautiful and magical
but also full of sorrow
reminding me
that nightingales
will soon be silent forever
Curiosity perhaps killed many a cat
For a cat it is an inquisitive brat

It could rummage through anything even your ******* trash
Tabby may spring on dinner table and cutlery may crash

Famous might be a cat for those famed nine lives
but not much help is that if in every danger it dives!

Its feline curiosity to crash-land it in trouble
for it tends to explore every kind of rubble.

The catty **** likes a fight and a wild-goose-chase.
Forever looking forward to amuse and amaze?

In a cat basket he's likely to be struck with ennui
Perhaps his caretaker thought only of his fengshui?

His meowing and hissing resonates in the valley
as he tussles with many rival cats in the alley

Mr. Tom cat thinks most females are saucy
but with them he acts in a way quite bossy

Wild and rough, with macho feral pride
I watch you tease and taunt in your typical stride.

No way is he kitty soft paws
Mr. Tomcat sure has the sharpest claws.

Tomcat ate the fishy leftover pudding & fish pie
and kissed the feline females and made them cry.

But my fav is my own cutie darling so soft
even if she may raid the larder and loft that's aloft .

©
A fun poem over the hols inspired by cats I have and watched
 May 2023 My Dear Poet
ok okay
Lonely little leaf
Flying alone in an autumn breeze 

Amber where it was once green
Its changed in ways that can't be seen

Will it be let to lay 
Or fly away

I hope it will be with the stars one day
But most likely it will just fade away

Just like everything else
We all decay
Fly away
Not sentimental
Typically
When it comes
It’s a surprise to me
I could go on
About the whys
And careful worded
Overdue goodbyes
But hellos are
More interesting
One last goodbye
For all the goodbyes
I’ve got?
Why not?
Goodbye
Settling for less
Goodbye wrong ones
And accompanying mess
Goodbye poor choice
And self esteem
Welcome bold voice
And all that means
Take it on the chin
If must
Goodbye to to all that mental dust
Sometime soon
You’ll come around here
To check
What did I do
And you won’t help but notice
I was thinkin’ about you
 May 2023 My Dear Poet
Maddy
Not for lack of words
Not for lack of ideas and fresh takes
The Muse is around when he or she wants to be
I think there are two in my life
When I touched Henry David's desk at Walden
It was an epiphany and yet I wished he could speak with me
That is what happens when the words stay with the muse at least this one

C@rainbowchaser2023
Death came knocking in the middle of the night
He asked you to join him, death was calm and polite
He had watched you for a while, smiled as you said goodbyes
Death understood the pain and the love behind our cries
He was gentle when he took your hand and led you to the light
Death gave you a shoulder to rest on and he hugged you tight
Death was warm and inviting, he had a familiar face
He opened a door for you that led to an unknown place
Death stayed with you until long after you were gone
He still lets you come and visit in the dusk and in the dawn
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