Growls or barks me from my easy sleep,
Dragging from my lips a groan, or sometimes worse,
Because a wind-blown branch is tapping at the house,
Or the neighbor dog is yelling out his worries to the moon.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, the dog
Moves from his place at our feet
To the valley between you and me,
Settles atop the comforter,
Lays his shaggy head upon my chest,
And sighs a deep, contented sigh
To say he is part of the pack, happily at rest.

Sometimes in the middle of the night I remember
That humans aren't the only family members.

Walking with my dog,
sunbeams are smiling through trees;
pure love on the leash.

even a snake has a voice, 'she said'

She spins her beautiful web
as natural to her as air
but beauty is not her game.
She will wait, centred
as patient as a full Moon.
And its the freedom of wings
brings the downfall of her meals.

Do you recall, that song?
The one we danced to nightly,
With our bare feet in the dew covered grass?
How the cicadas sang for us and crickets played the music
The frogs would sing base
Sometimes the rain would provide the beat
Fireflies were our spotlights
Stars, our spectators
The breezes played the leaves to add subtle background
To that decadent song the nights played
For us
Our song
Cicada Song

There was an old man on my street,
Who resembled a pig made for meat;
He cussed and he drank
He fought and he stank,
'till a car squished him into concrete!