Flap, flap two black wings staggered
On two yellow clawed feet after stormy
Weather and the tufts of cats fur left
Like a white collar on emerald green.

Inside the cardboard box with soft lining
And scraps of bread, cheese and water
On a little polythene transparent oblong
There was chirping to be heard from within.

On varnish floor he skids and skates about
Putting newspaper down his legs got strong
After a few days of feeding he began to fly
Just a little spinning around the front room.

Bright eyed with yellow beak eating worms
He was nearly ready to be allowed outside
To find his strength and freedom with others
Tearily he was carried to park and released.

A few days later , looking in our garden tree
We saw him sitting on a leafy branch chirping
And singing a thank you song of gratitude for
A life he may never have lived without our help.

Love Mary ***

A gift for the host, my permission to land -
Champagne for sunrise, as could only have been planned.

The all-night lock-in; whispering late, the breakfast date.
Just smalltown lust, but why give it up for drama’s sake?

Months from now, all will be said and done,
Fresh appetite earned, from ballads tearily sung.

And I’ll search white noise again for something special,
Until passing faces burst into beautiful blooms...

No matter how improbable.

He finds himself standing there
Arms helplessly outstretched
A desperate plea to those who see
With nothing he calls his own

He makes eye contact shamefully
To those that pass him by
He tries to speak words
But is surrounded in silence

Excuse me sir-he hopelessly think
Can you spare a dime?
But these thoughts never leaves
his tired mind

A man to his right
Whistles as he walks by
Hey homeless,he cries
Get a job and stop whining

He pretends he cant hear him-
As the passerby starts to smile
You got yourself in this
Now homeless get a life!

His feet are swollen
From aimlessly standing all day
He tries to walk
But his legs dont comply

He hears laughter from the passerby
As he turn to face the sun
Inside his soul is aching
Yet its another day only begun

As the day race on
He finds more people walking by
As if they try to hide
The fact that hes  there

Excuse me madam
Can you help me please?
But the tears in his eyes
Is not enough to convince

She picks up her pace
As she hurries on by
Not today,she yells
And then turns out of sight

He finds himself standing there
Lord,how did i let this be?
Is there still hope,he wonders
Alone and Tearily
Would death bring freedom
From this misery?
Is there nothing oh Lord
You can do...

The sun starts to set in the sky
Soon it will become night
And as the cold wind picks his face
He knows the streets he will pace

And within his eye
He sees a darkness passing by
Its just another day leaving
Yet another plea dying in plain sight

Its the unfairness of Life....

I wake to one more
daybreak,
pick up the pieces and
with tape in hand
join in
the repairing of
the broken
jigsaw.

I dream this,
a silent movie
Queen
screen kiss,
Pickford and I locked
into an embrace
fly.

And the jigsaw waits for me
to end the dreamery and
Pickford wearily
unites with other artists
almost tearily and
waves goodbye
to me.

I pick the pieces from my eyes
disengage my ears and no
longer hear her cries, it makes
no difference how hard a man tries,
the day always breaks.
.

Listen huge Johnny fish mission, I'm hooked on hooking you 'cause
I am a fish ****** by attrition who begs justice of Jesus for His Sin
Our normalized poker glands deal to us manually-dealt poker hands
soaked like clean, noduled midgets under kitty-littered soaker sands
that bubble old gin that's gingered to queer what Al Roker demands
as I tearily care not where the lard *** of the wife of Al Roker lands