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Nylee Jun 2023
Clinging to my dreams
Losing touch to reality
I am alone swimming
In this fierce ocean
I am catching the cold
Iciness in this stone heart
Barely floating
How to wake up from this fantasy,
this water is too salty.
  Jun 2023 Nylee
Eshwara Prasad
Everyone is an orphan where compassion is absent.
  Jun 2023 Nylee
Thomas W Case
The under shell of
the tortoise looked
like a sunset.
Blasts of color:
orange, maroon, burnt sienna.
I caught them in
the garden at
sunrise, eating a
tomato or chewing into
a head of lettuce.
They always looked so
serious.

I was just a
sunburnt boy, with
cutoff jeans and a
straw hat.
I caught toads too.
But when they peed on me,
I let them go.
I loved that land.
Ponds and streams,
fishing and climbing trees.
oh,
sweet, green
youth.
  Jun 2023 Nylee
S-zaynab-kamoonpury
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
  Jun 2023 Nylee
Crow
wind shuffles
through the long grass

seeded heads
drowsy
in the percolating afternoon

broiled air
heavy and lethargic
laboriously ascends
its unseen ladder
into the barren sky

Arcady sings
from a place
of unimaginable height

the song
is a whisper
at the precipice

I am the wing
that awaits your breath
to take flight
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