It was easy to meet you,
we could have happened
on any day of the week;
our love not knew
a hide
or
seek.

Not knowing of the rat race
but races to catch rat,
only works when she wants to does
Poppet The Cat.
Content sat on clothes awaiting a iron,
the creased rest
of a little lion.
Scratching the sofa without care
while brilliantly breathing her tabby air;
see I love you,
I love you,
your running whiskers delight;
you're always
always
a beautiful sight.

Your boom of fantastic
easily done;
all the ice
a time in the sun.

The last of the wine
goes down fine
as you start slumber in the room above;
the end of vino
raised to your love.

When you blow up balloon I stare;
what was dead rubber becomes alive
in air.

A path seemed bumpy
now knows no slight deviation;
smooth as the groove the run to your station.

I’ll wager,
if not for thee, I might not have set foot in Alsager,
it could have become another stop I passed through on the train,
in summer sun, or winter rain,
I’d have perhaps thought
“oh this seems a sweet area to reside”
and then forgot all about it and enjoyed the rest of the rail ride,
just a picturesque town of travelled through myth
like Newton Dale Halt or Chapel-en-le-Frith.
I may never have known the names of it’s streets
or what it’s parks are called or where’s a cool place to meet,
never found out where’s a good bang for buck eatery to dine
or which shop has the best deals on two bottles of wine,
never known what it’s like to approach one of it’s doors
and in my tummy feel wings and a soar.
As it is Alsager’s now up there with my most favourite station
I step on to it’s platform with gleeful anticipation,
knowing in 15 mins we’ll be beginning our start,
thank you for Haze for putting this place in my heart.

Chatting with you
is a special delight,
you could turn dark rooms free
with your splendid bright.

And now I have to take you down
to seem like you weren't even there;
Christmas I love you,
the once a year fanfare!

Bye bye!

Until next time!

At all sketches a dab hand,
the touch of deft
drawing safe land.

Our precision,
the click
of cogs,
knowing what is
and knowing what was;
I recks in the multiverse
from beginning to end
there would not be a chapter when I was not your friend.

Jigsaw puzzles completed
when you're around,
Rubix Cubes done instantly
as you speak your sounds,
you guide me through a crossword, cryptic
or not,
I can work out any sum
and untangle every knot;
by your side it's easy, you engender all my see,
you're simply amazing
and a place I want to be.

All the begin of winter cold
feels less
by your side,
your warmth knows not tundra tide;
building a space to weather what outside may bring;
fantastic zoom
our super sing.

Now I never have loads of cleaning to do therefore I wouldn't class it as a chore,
but despite my scrubbing being easy I do find it a tad of a bore,
when I get in I just wanna chill, catch up on television and have a feed,
perhaps put on some Coronation Street and then have a bit of a read,
but sometimes the bin needs taking out and then I'll have a hover around
as there are little bits of dust and detritus embedded in the ground,
I'll get the wipes and shine the surfaces until they have a gleam
or wash every dish in the sink to make them looking pristine,
but however stuck I get into elbow grease I'd rather be doing my own vibe
like reclining with rest on the sofa or if I felt like it having a jive;
but when I knew you were coming to stay tonight I thought  "ohh I want to tidy my room"
not because it was an absolute tip or it resembled a junk heap of doom,
It was as I wanted the best for you as I like it when you share my space,
your presence places more springs in my step and throws another smile on my face.
So although last night was spent vaccing and taking nascent cobwebs from my wall
I didn't feel like I wanted to do anything else, there was no yearning at all;
preparing my boudoir for your arrival is not a graft I rue,
I don't mind doing cleaning when my cleaning is for you.

I'm glad when I dispensed with toys
I preferred girls
to boys,
not to say there would have been anything wrong
with skipping down Canal Street  singing a song, with hunky blokes as far as the eye can see,
it's okay for others
just not for me.
If the caprice of sexuality swayed the other way
I believe I may not have woke with you today,
our hand holds lost
in a flurry of men
all giving a toss;
but rather then know a cockatoo I know you, another bird;
my intimate hit,
bringing peace of kit,
a tantalising fit.

I can speak all day in tongues about Poppet!
Pop! Pop! Popsicle
you're making this time in my life,
the best discoveries towards you, may your joy be rife. When you purr it's nice.
You run to me when my voice does call you noise,
you arrive for our near,
excited for the happy times, I think that's pretty clear.
I never want to own you
as I know you wouldn't like that,
but please stay around
my stupendous tabby cat.

In this happy haze you can appear
and make me smile involuntary;
ferrying me to ace,
the thought of your face.

I imagine well
in multiverse tribes you'd be,
always existing
next to next
with others
in the easy shine you give;
all your moments gilding a live.

The essences of amazing
are etched on your face
before beautifying
but please,
if you want,
make up away
until lips touched
with colourful sticks shine
a allure with less
and more.

Blatantly
you say,
with typical
forthright
knowing
wonder,
I love you,
& I,
trying to gather my thoughts
say,
without the weight of thinking;
I love you too,
when I wanted summer
you made my sky blue.

A sing of
super ace
amazing beyond measure;
little fantastic you
with all the drops of treasure.

The word on the street is
you're gone,
as seen morning breath will attest.
But in these columns of sunshine
this summer here appears,
and butterfly wings
still have time
to do their things.

After the ordeal
you really make things bright,
replacing tirades of darkness for little skips of light.

Your snore
does not allure
it's clattering cronk drives me mad,
every molecule of it forces me to sad,
I hate it when I think you've stopped and there's
a lull in the house of pain
but then it spluters back into life and invades my space again;
it's obtrusive to my slumber,  it disturbs my beauty sleep,
I try to hold back tears
but I can't help but wheep,
I have no recourse but to nudge you to try and stop the daemon howl,
I need to quell misery's guttural and halt this Hellish growl,
you startle and sit up but soon settle back into the cries of doom: the minions of Belzubub chanting about gloom.
But despite the fact that when you rest you chudder
as a foghorn lacking charms
I am glad when my eyes open I'm near to your arms,
because although you gurgle with terror
and blast a Witchfinder General coo
I'm always pretty happy when I awake with you.

When my breath is your breath
It’s enticing as the assured
of a morning
in a long sunny day.

You're right,
your age is a good knock,
made with umpteen strokes
of splendour
and aplomb release;
i'm glad you came to the crease.

Around you
defences drop,
ramparts rescind,
blocks become silly things;
you open with smile the fleck of tut,
move all to joy
and end the shut.

Your scintillating self
appears true
to me now;
I tilt my head and you're there
being brilliant,
with a ease
all your own.

Itchy
but this won’t always happen,
it’s just your time right now,
in a few months you’ll be gone,
no tiny fangs in the cold,
small gnashing lost to season;
as it is you bite
in summer’s sunlight.

Saturday morning becomes
simple
with you
by my side,
magnifying the open
with nothing to hide;
you're the bestest surprise,
with the summer in your eyes.

In the house
where fought was known as nothing
i'll gallop up the stairs with a bounding born
of what
you gave
to me;
super strides
and
a
chance
to see.

You're starting to represent
something wonderful
to me;
ace as summer
beginning to shine.

You remind me of blue skies
and billowing flags,
signalling a attempt
of something joyful.

Now on days at my desk
I think of you
and your brilliant blue.

In this early summer placement
it's easy to arrive
at your blue eyed station.

You:
with every movement
the world you're mending;
as confident as a fairytale
with a happy ending.

It's always in focus,
everything you do.
And,
when lids drop
there's thankful clapping for the highs,
and for the sunshine
from your eyes.

I've been to lots of fun places on the train,
to great holidays
without any rain,
to joyous weddings where the skies were clear,
to Superbowl nights with plenty of beer;
spending yesterday round yours I can now put on that list,
as we chatted
and laughed
and drank
and kissed.

Things that were incompatible
suddenly seem like balance;
the fog now in time
with the sunshine.

You've got softer these days.
When we met you were fiercer,
propensity to vicious in all your paws
and claws,
but,
now,
you relax in moments
and stretch out full, unafraid and happy in the sun;
love makes me feel secure too,
strong and lit,
ahh my less ferocious domesticated Poppet.

I think,
at the moment
you could make up a song and i'd know it
inside out
immediately,
you wouldn't have to spend time
teaching me the chorus
i'd know what to say
and more
with aplomb, it sings:
let's discuss how our impromtu is ace
and how we
may have found
a tad of place.
Yeah.

I’ll miss your lovely singing voice
bristling with charm;
opposite of clarion call,
antithesis of alarm.

The phrase time is a healer is tinged with sadness, as it accepts the end,
every moving on comes from the end of a beginning that was fortified by hope.  
Time is a healer because shared experiences cease, which condemns any perceived future to the past,
love cannot continue when the space is no longer occupied by two,
those experiences shared become less vivid,
less real,
relics of a history that gather dust with each passing second,
dusk falling on laughter, forever captured and frozen, other people, from another time.

It seems these days, in this now,
the bright side isn't a unfathomable place, it's just right there, close enough not to reach for,
more settled,
gently,
part of that lack of grasp is because of you;
you create a happy easily,
with all you are
and all you be.

Test tuby...

Scientifically,
when it's all broken down
you're
1. Brill.
2. Ace.
3. Warm.
4. Welcoming.
etc,
and more;
but all I know is i'm
happy
when you're stood on the floor, next to me,
you gilde my see,
and,
If I could pick moments to be in
most of them would be
with you.

I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite,
thankfully not in a medical way
I don't have to pop pills everyday
to keep an essence of danger under control
and to stop my head doing backward flips and forward rolls
to curtail bad thoughts and contain OCD
wake up and think "what's happening to me?"
but sometimes i'm full of mazy bomb blasts
and crazy contrasts…
Now I love animals and their brilliant ways
they brighten the world and add happy to my days,
I could be walking to work in that new spring sun
and spy a cat on a wall and think “ohh, how fun”,
I’ll bound over with a skip and say “hey you, how’s it going,
although it’s bright today your purr has really got things glowing!”
Or in a Saturday beer garden when I’m kicking back with relax
a dog strolls in his owner and my attention is instantly rapt,
I’ll exclaim “ohh, is your pooch friendly, please may I give him a pet?”
If the guy answers in the affirmative I’ll proclaim “hey big doggy I’m so glad we’ve met,
you’re a lovely doggy aren’t you, look at your slobbering face
and the way you wag your tail I think it’s pretty ace!”.
Or I may be having a saunter round the park taking in some stupendous views
and see a stretch of water and decide to have a peruse,
as I get closer I think “oh I can’t believe my luck
look at that raft of lots of lovely ducks!”.
So I nip to the shop round the corner and buy a loaf of bread
and think “ohh you top paddling guys you’re gonna get real fed!”!
So I chuck plentiful crumbs in the water making sure they all get their fill
of some luscious Warburtons down their chomping bill.
I do love other creatures though not just the ones who go meow, woof and quack,
even the tiny ones who fur and feathers they lack;
I could watch a ladybird for ten minutes and be allured by it’s spots
and then be wary around those minuscule red mites that look like little dots,
ensuring that I always check before I sit on a summer wall
so my plonking down doesn’t squash them all.
Or if I’m walking home down a dark passage way on a rainy night
i’ll get my phone out and use it’s shiny light
to see if there are any snails that have come out from under a bush
so I can daintily skip around them and avoid that awful shell crush.
As for spiders and moths in the house I never **** them I always put them out
And then do a Usain Bolt stance in the living room with a “I love you insects” pout.
However one Thursday when I was off work on a day in lieu
and thought “ahh I’ll venture out as the sky is blue,
I can have a wander with some music and then go see Mum and Dad
but before I do all that there is a shower to be had.”
I stroll into the bathroom anticipating a lovely clean
but am greeted by a sight that is less than serene,
walking on the ceramics are about 14 microscopic flies,
I had to squint to view them, they were almost invisible to the naked eye.
I mused “hmm, how am I gonna solve this they are too flimsy to catch and put outside,
and what receptacle could I place them in to take on freedom’s ride?”
As I’m deciding what to do I see more of them coming out of a hole in the tile
and I say “look guys me you’re beginning to rile”,
then I glance some Dettol wipes lying next to my tooth brush
and in a instance obliterate the flies with a sweeping rush,
I chuck the death tissue in the bin and feel a swell of guilt,
“I thought of more understanding stuff I was surely built,
I got rid of them without compunction because they were disrupting my aqua blast
I hope this killing streak doesn’t last.”
Post shower I’m feeling better and believe my murderous bent has gone away far
pop my ear phones in, crank up the volume and saunter round to see Ma and Pa,
but it won’t just be Mum and Dad I’ll be pleased to see when my feet land on their welcome mat,
it will also be lovely Poppet the cat!
I like Poppet loads, she’s my whiskered friend
all my love to her I always send,
her wild meowing tones are one of my favourite sounds
it’s awesomely brill to have her around,
sometimes when I’m drunk her name slips off my tongue,
that’s how I know we defiantly belong,
I can be gleefully inebriated at a festival
and I’ll just say “Poppet!” and feel more happy full,
Pops Popsicle Poppet, I adore your tabby chest,
ahh Poppet, you’re simply the best!
I get to my parent’s house, call her and she comes running with that bounding feline whizz,
and I exclaim with joy, “ahh, there she is!”,
I give her lots of petting and start to feel all catty rich
but then I notice she seems to have a itch,
I say to my Mum, “is Poppet okay, she looks like she’s having too much of a scratch?”
she replies,  “yeah but I think she has fleas that are more than beginning to hatch”,
she continues, “I’ve got some flea treatment though so those little vamps we can quickly dismiss”,
I reply, “nar, it’s okay Mum, I’ll handle this.”
I say to the fleas, “come here guys” and take them and Poppet to one side,
and remark “look today I’ve already committed insecticide
and I really don’t want to do it again but you’re putting Poppet the cat in duress
and she seems distracted rather than purring in my soft strokey caress,
and I don’t want to deliver a ****** bomb of flea killing pollution,
it’s much better to find an amicable solution,
so if you could just jump off her now and end your inhibiting lease
I promise I won’t hover you up I’ll just let you go in peace.”
I give them a few minutes to mull it over but then see Poppet frantically biting her thigh,
“now that is ****** it, no more Mr Nice Guy!
right you little Dracula *****, you’re about to find out what really *****,
it’s being on the receiving end of my “you’re perturbing Poppet” wrath,
you’re about to take a real long Frontline bath!”
Without remorse I dowse them up and that is that,
“bye bye you tiny ******* Vlad The Impaler *****!”  
See I love all the animals, I really have to say,
just don’t cross me on a Thursday,
oh, and I eat meat way more than a bit,
i’m a schizophrenic hypocrite.

Some emotions
I try
to have no time for;
jealousy just a useless worry,
run away from me with anger;
self pity in the dustbin
with regret
and has been:
but the looking forward to seeing you is naturally undimmed;
all your you and everything, your wow,
clear
in the now.

The spot where you fell now has the shadow of new you
beginning to start a reign,
autumn's decrepit form
forgot
in
this rise;
only for spring
are your eyes.

Super duper...

Even if there was nothing to get over
you'd arrive
like a saviour
and see no dust
in immaculate,
it must be hard to rescue pristine,
no damsel
no distress,
no mess,
just a flutter of your cape making a strong heart quiver,
and made me want to say;
come here soon
anyway.

Near you
is being sat under butterfly blue skies;
a world resplendent with confident soaring,
not seeming
to flutter by.