bright, bright spotlight sun

showing my weakness'
to the world......

the world winds down slowly tonight
coalescing into one  small house
on the cusp of something
we sit and watch the flickering
of other peoples bad news
and pray it does not become
our own

we keep in constant touch
with each other, the golden boy
sleeps with head in my lap
the father lays his hand
over mine and exerts gentle
reassuring pressure
the tuxedo kitten, sensing
our restless souls, moves from
person to person seeking
to comfort wish his two kilos
of wrinkled scrawniness

it is a time of waiting
and watching the small
screened phones, willing
them to carry positivity

it is a time of  cups
of lukewarm tea
and half eaten food
starting at sounds
and praying
to gods long losr
or forgotten

the night continues
to crawl, toward the day
the phones remain silent
we sleep in fitful dozing
snatches, with the blue glow
of reruns lighting
the huddled of  love

at 4.02 the phones buzz
and we answer,
with trepidation
the news is cautiously good
the surgery complete
the nephew, still with us

we sigh, with gratitude
as the sky begins to lighten

her fingers feathering the dark  magnolia leaves
stroking the foilage like it were a housecat

his fingers wrapped around the taped raquet handle
in a firm yet dexterous grip, waiting to enter the fray

her fingers deep within the loamy soil
communing with the larger whole

his fingers  testing  the grain of the wood
looking for the sweet spot, the soul

her fingers  raised to lips, creating  a mask
thoughts to the rest of the day

his fingers  poised above the computer
awaiting the spark to flare

her fingers in the tresses of his hair
asking for more connection

his fingers playing across the rise of her breast
answering all her questions

her fingers, her hands hard upon his shoulder blades
seeking the length, the depth, of him

his fingers, his hands on her ****
fullfilling their need

their fingers intertwined
as they sleep....together

from the teapot, blue
pours a dark rendolent brew
full of tall stories

always wishing for the best
from fingers to toes
she was optimism
clothed in black
with a fey look
in her eyes
as though
from a place
far wilder than this,
her magic drew you in
allocentricity her mantra
practised not preached
i knew her  when life
had greyed her hair
put myriad wrinkles
upon her face....but
still it is the smile
and the laugh I hear
on those days that
get me down..
my sugar plump fairy
in black hand me downs

nine lives he had
that little blucat
the first he spent
as a kitten playing
on a mat he was
pretty ok with that
the second he spent
on a plane in the air
he really thought that
wasn't exactly fair
the third he found
his feet his feet in
cold hilly place
but heat was provided
and cuddles too
life four he threw away
escaping and then
climbing a tree
and losing his footing
too far from the ground
that was scary and painful
life number five he spent
it's years slow, looking
for the sun in summer
and in winter the doona
the sixth was all about food
and thefriendship
of his human things
by year seven
he was slowing down
no longer chasing mice
or feathered fare
by eight he just wanted
to lay down and sleep
be stroked by gentle hands
and purr as they ruffled
his fur
his ninth life was difficult
for all to contemplate
he tried so hard to stay
but in the end needed
to be at one with
his forebears
to join the family tree

nine lives he had
he used them all
living a life
that was in
no way small

nine lines long
this poem shall be
it is apparently poem
one thousand and one
on hello poetry
so thank you all
for reading me
and mine musings
my heart is full