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

a holiday for
Office
to breathe some
space...

imaginary fears never materialised
uncontrollable fear subsided
fear of the future never arrived.

***** and he
make their way
across the stretch
of sand

behind them,
the hard rock land
of memory

the crustaceans
will return--the tides
their clock

not he;
this march
is his last,
waves will
swallow him
gag him

while he briefly
forgets his purpose  
and clings to
this world;

soon though,
his lungs with fill
he will sink
to depths:

a blue burial,
a seaweed symphony
his dirge

the ***** return,
but not he--the ebb and flood
of waters no longer
his province

(poem's image: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1174175556043500&set;=a.102525519875181.1742.100003531994461&type;=3&theater;¬if;t=like¬if;id=14914495906541620

the new cat
is a collector
he steals
ointment tops

and stashes them
inside my workshoes

he like to walk around
with lego people dangling
from his toothy mouth

he steals my boys jocks
and ***** socks and makes
nests of smelly goodness
behind the reading chair

he is brazen, within his world
dragging a washcloth out
of my hand as I removed
make-up leaving me
panda- eyed and surprised
as I watched his awkward
tripping get away

we believe he has kidnapped
Beanie Z the zebra
but cannot at present find his lair
negoitations are ongoing...

must go....just saw him slink past
with the dishcloth......