A fisherman’s boat is sinking in a pond or in the sea He has one chance to be released His fishing line is caught inside a jungly haven of lily pads Franticly he pulls and grabs at his pole while pushing off with his feet inadvertently from the boat that’s barely seen It falls into the murky deep Plunging in propelled to swim A tumultuous feat He never learned formerly His hands like hooves are clawing His feet in shoes stomping through the water seeking forward motion or something somewhat solid His efforts are in vain In order to survive this game Panic must subside Let common sense be his guide Emerging fingers clutch the line Eyes of mud wide open find a bobber and an empty hook hung up in the watery vines
Avenging her anguish fate began to take its stand For it was his past catching up with him In a pond or in the sea back and forth was he with she who was naive to fall for his catch and release Pulling her out Holding her gently Removing the hook She struggled to breathe Stroking her gills Parting her fins Plunging himself inside her wetness Then a premature cast back into the pond or into a sea of ejaculation and doing this over and over again
But it was still she who knowingly went back for more wretchedly accepting the hook orally tearing a gash in her scarred up lips He would not quit and neither would she Until finally one day he spitefully sailed away leaving her floating and bleeding The hook she had swallowed he ripped from her throat the flesh from her heart lay strewn in his boat then he was gone for good
She searched for the boat the bobber to follow down to a hook with a worm of rubber that never again was offered No plastic meal to lure and tease No more relentless catch and release for her that is The pond, the sea, the entire ecosystem self centered around his world of relation without the knowledge of it’s obligation or any idea of his sick intentions actually oblivious to his existence But he still believed “All below revolve around me!”
Waxing moons and waning tides had come and gone in healing time She heard one day his boat in the wind A hurricane whirled and slowly set in over the pond he nestled on or sea where he was playing his game Assuming immunity He thought he was safe then a massive wave took over his fate It was said his boat had sank and he was never seen again.
Tangled in seaweed two eyes see him gladly Closer he swims to the lily pad hideaway A family of reptiles of alligator kind awaiting his rest to pounce when he’s blind He sees his hook his knees dragging bottom in the shallow water he attempts to stand on tired legs the muck is sucking his shoes into its depths he lifts his feet takes giant steps Trudging and thrashing through the green frogs and birds sing peacefully vultures lurking and hovering waiting to hear for his last breath
Suddenly frogs and birds go silent all that is heard -a splash of violence A soaring pain runs up his leg and pulls him in up over his head His hands like claws raking the bottom he pulls himself free rushing clumsily out Climbing up a bank too steep his feet slide down awkwardly Blood oozing through heavy pants the left leg losing the pain enhances only to notice his right foot stuck caught in the jaws of a gator’s luck Dinner for the cold blooded family was beginning to look good and tasty He kicks with his leg as weak as it is on his belly in dirt he thinks he can swim He holds his head up with fistfuls of soil his body slides backwards down the bank getting wetter into the water up over his head chomping more chomping his foot comes off releasing himself he swims for the surface he finds the air he chokes he coughs he swims for the shore right foot missing and left leg broken helplessly bleeding and spoken for the vultures anxiously waiting their turn
He lies on his back waving a white flag but nature is ruthless regarding revenge With a foot in its belly the gator runs swiftly between his legs opening widely He catches a glimpse of the hungry reptile closing down on him tightly A final scream is released to exile The pond is heard waving laughter And the sea is seen casting a smile His limbs are torn off His groin chewed quickly A family of seven enjoy the feast Then the vultures come pacing the air with glee When it is time they will dine a delicacy on land and one in flight
Every good and every bad thing happens to come in threes First it was Her by He out of a pond and into the boat then back into the sea Second was He by a reptile’s teeth out of a pond and onto the shore then back into the sea A charming third his Ghost took flight up from the ground into airy night the vultures took off and left the flesh catching the Ghost instead out of the air and into their mandibles then the release to fall to land playing the game in hovering circles over and over and over and over and over and over again.
A river runs swiftly and quietly but not as fast as a steady rain racing down aimlessly a droplet found curiously in the clutch of a rocky bank
A river whisper echoes for miles like a whimpering of a tired child rather white water or crashing like thunder it peacefully flows in free style
A river gracefully dances with glee down and around every cypress tree old but strong content all along a shallow bed of cypress knees
A river dark and brown with swamp the smell of mangrove ahead in it’s mouth birds heard chirping frogs heard singing crickets orchestrating every sound
The river running carries a canoe twisting and turning a vessel of two steering and steady paddle when ready listen to the river; it whispers to you hush...the river speaks to you.
Poetreehugger 5/16/2009 3:30pm
Poetry Words comprised of thoughts and time Vaguely relayed Explicitly portrayed Sadly chronicled Happily registered No matter its content An artist is present A favorite of three and one is poetry
Tree Majestic tower of energy and power Peacefully employ Violently destroyed Wretchedly gone Contently reborn No matter what kind A life so divine A favorite of three and one is a tree
Hugger A genuine touch of arms and love Occasionally conspired Universally desired Mournfully in need Gladly received No matter when A hug from a friend My favorites are poetry and hugging a tree.
A story of footsteps go pitter patter where massacre once took place innocent blood sadly scattered beneath a soil of immortal deface but the spirits yield to falling grace.
The peaceful sight of eminent silence from glazing white content display sparkling flakes of tiny crystals that slowly fall and gently lay on a sad Dakota winter's day
Memories melt in land of buffalo northern plains contend its past but stories reign through songs of snow until one voice is Lakota’s last then who to reveal the unborn mask?
And so beneath a martyred ground a passive season of wintry lace ageless spirits leave vacant sounds through a blanket of mercy, asylum face from a sleepless sky of falling grace.
Oh peaceful sight of eminent silence your glazing white content display & sparkling flakes of tiny crystals that slowly fall and gently lay on a calm Dakota winters' day.
My Niece & Nephew
The Scorpio Sun lay quietly resting high in a starlit sky Darkness awakened in water constellation brought forth a baby of Cancer ascension while the moon shone down in Gemini
She came here not by stork nor a bus, nor train not even in an aeroplane A rhyme and reason in an autumn season The gift of Rowan Her birth a blessing A beautiful smiling face
The Aquarius Sun affixed in the morn barely over the horizon Daylight conversing an air constellation brought forth a baby of Aquarius ascension while the moon rested in Capricorn
He came here not by basket nor bicycle, nor horse not even in a covered wagon A song and place on a winter’s day The gift of Tristan His birth a blessing So gentle and so handsome
Gripping fingers tiny hands Blue eyes wide open and parting lips cooing songs and squeaker tunes A sister and brother together they bloom My love to both my niece and nephew!
The Orange For Larry 3/23/08
Fiery but sweet Raging bold but vulnerable to cold On the outside a bumpy ride Shining bright a colorful sight Attracting and refracting an orange light
Succulent but messy Difficult to peel attempting to reveal a smile A fruit of labor concealing fervor the reality of ideality of the feminine Deeply residing the potentiality to reveal the identity of a loving friend
Digging my thumb to indent into some Resistant armored skin Enduring to indulging but stopping to listen Softly the quick sound of your sweet breath Then preparing my mouth for the delicate flesh
Suspending consumption I’m noticing something Within your function a mere revelation Inside each slice a representation The complication of your person Arrogant but uncertain creative perception a lonely man lacking One to embrace your vision.
Purring Friends 12/9/08
There there I will take care of every pretty stripe and every fine hair and what do we have here a brown belly to bare Green eyes and blue eyes and long eyebrow whiskers a small button nose and triangle ears with cheeks full of whiskers and a cute little beard or pretty black lips Don’t stick that pink tongue out at me!
A tale of a tail shaken or stirred twitching with affection with striped fur when happily engaged in a meow furnacular or dropping a toy in silent stealth mode A tale of a tail in the mark of a question or in exclamation Missy Brown lies herself down on my paper and pen or book that I’m reading a proclamation
Mama knows the situation for they are sisters and jealous of one another but love each other So it is time to pet the sweet heads or brush their cheeks they like this best
There there I will take care of every pretty stripe and beautiful brown hair lying in bed with my purring friends Juliet and Jen.
Rain is falling gently just above my head I’m sitting in a wooden rocker beneath a porch constructed by my daddy’s hands.
The beginnings of dawn in a southern town the streets are damp the trees are still the air is quiet I am walking after a long, painful night.
I Left The Door Cracked Discreetly
Blinking my eyes seemingly like a flickering of light I left the curtain cracked slightly So its not the light at all only my mind struggling to find its twilight fall I left the door cracked discreetly for someone to watch over me while I sleep.
Lake Worth Poetry
Precipitation A rainy evening in Lake Worth 9/23/2010 6:56PM
I love the sound of rain I’ve written of rain before I love the quiet of snow I ought to write of it more It may be the absence of people when it rains the watery sound to drown out all others It may be the absence of everything when it snows the silence swarming inside my ears and head as if suddenly I go deaf and the world continues making noise but I cannot hear it
I love the clanking of large heavy drops falling hard against the gutters made of aluminum or some other metal especially the ruckus of crashing rain on a tin roof the pitter patter of landing plops running a mile or more racing from a cumulonimbus sky the splatting against the leaves of trees dancing between the blades of grass or gently puddling onto a flower pedal raindrops huddling communing together
I love the peaceful fall of snow tiny crystals floating through the sky clumping into flakes waltzing coupling whispering droplets frozen into ice a silent courtship passing trapped in silence and waiting to melt awakening to sing to each other the songs of spring but until then each feathery crystal a symetrical sixfold cuddling hush, the white, the calming
I love the sound of rain and the quiet of snow Precipitation brings me tranquility.
O 9/3/2010 Friday at 2:54 Rowan’s nap after many Sesame Street ABC songs
O is for Oreos a tasty delight or if you crave healthy an early Oatmeal bite An Orange from Florida a juicy little fellow or a cheesy lasagna mixed with Oregano Onions are a favorite especially the red Ones Oysters work well in a raw naked fashion Cooking with Olive Oil makes food taste yummy some use an Octopus coloring with it’s ink
Some Outstanding people Own an O name like Oprah and Obama and Otis Redding Nature has Obvious names like the white Barn Owl Osprey in an Oak tree and Oleander flowers Some cities I traveled Oak Ridge and Omaha Did a gig in Opp a small town in Alabama Florida has Ocala Okeechobee and Orlando I lived in New Orleans the second starts with O!
Some Old stories start with O The Odyssey and Oedipus can be read or can be sung in Opera singing Octaves An Ornery Old Oarfish way Out in the Ocean swims with an Orca going up for Oxygen A switch can turn Off like a dead libido but if it stays On Go for the “O!” O is for Orgasm my favorite O word Only One is needed but more is preferred
Wrapping up this poem with an Omni Oxymoron Obliging words in writer’s block Ol’ rooster crows at noon O’clock Had to lie to take an Oath The next P words Object to O Prancing in Prolific Place P makes chaos in Oasis But O stood tall in Opposition Obsessed with P’s Obfuscation That P must wait and Obey the Order from which it must’ve came The ABC’s, an Organization an Orchestra in Alphabetation an Oboe plays the last few lines and O receives a standing Ovation!
I Rather Be Outside At Night 3/10/10 revised 3/28/2010
I rather be outside at night where I can be seen and can’t Anticipating and tasting the dew that sets by morning From a secret cover nocturnal hovering a cloud waiting to quench my thirst in bursting…dreams
I rather be outside at night in the fragrant air of jasmine sweet but subtle, gentle the cloud moves slowly a cat plays a fiddle revealing a crescent moon amidst a jumping cow a laughing dog with a running dish and spoon
I rather be outside with riddles and rhymes under a quiet dark sky cradling the night.
There is something sensual about biting into a piece of produce that I have grown and nurtured from a seedling buried warmly in the backyard It sounds somewhat cannibalistic! But if all is life including the trees the vines the grapes and the wines then the consumption of life makes me a cannibal. Therefore, we are all cannibals and this cannot change unless we resolve ourselves to eating plastic Although the processed food most commonly consumed after purchase after distribution to the corporate grocery chain after mass production has the nutritional value of a plastic apple or plastic banana or plastic orange.
But if we eat plastic the recycling plants would have nothing to process and those jobs would be lost and our economy is already falling apart or fell apart and then poor little ‘world power America’ will lose the heavy weight title to China or Japan or maybe Canada as if we haven’t already even though Norway and Sweden are actually the richest countries in the world with the lowest unemployment rates lowest crime rates and lowest obesity rates and people live longer on average and have to visit a doctor less on average at the same time it is a RIGHT not a privilege to have free healthcare not to mention they both have the highest education standards where universities are free as well and don’t feel the need to spend so much fucking government money on a useless defense policy since they don’t have a masculine ego to start wars! Damn liberals making us look so bad! Oh forget it Be a Cannibal!
Spring Has Come An afternoon at South Shore Park 4/24/2006
Spring has come My first in Wisconsin Seagulls dive into cool waters Of Lake Michigan A park provides contentment And enchantment Passersby with their happy canines Couples holding hands Smelling the fragrance of springtime Nappers soaking up the sun Sprawled out on blankets That cover green lawns The breeze carries laughter Barking and chirping The sounds of a new dawn The trees not quite in full bloom But spring has come Bringing delight to everyone Here in Wisconsin.
Pardon the dark skies Pardon the winter shade It has left us for a while And taken the melancholy with it.
Fragility For Chris K. 1/9/2007
You hit me with words of scorn then again with eyes of concern sarcasm in waves followed by gentle praise I delighted in finding intentions unborn.
Buried behind such pessimism fragile glass protecting your skepticism of any other or myself for that matter from accepting your unusual person.
A rock I threw deliberately it cracked the glass abruptly you started to run but turned back in time a moment which means the world to me.
The Park Bench unknown date 2007 revised 12/3/08
A man sits down on a park bench encircled by a university of pigeons He turns his head from side to side and up and down wondering what language of lecture echoes from a coo Boredom sat in right away The man was attention deficit He wanted to stop to appreciate time slowing down moment by moment seeming endless
A womyn sat across the paved walkway on another park bench She was watching the man He noticed the womyn turn quickly away but even her eyes were blinking slowly How long had she been there? The man’s anxiety of her discovery beset his mind with an awkward twitch in his left cheek and eye His restlessness suddenly made time go back to a normal pace The womyn rose up from her park bench and walked away.
Distant screams become nearby cries Walking closer toward an unforgiving nightmare One, a professor heard grinding his teeth Another, his wife, seen stumbling in her sleep Both caught in an unborn dream
Tempted are those to stir their slumber To wake from a depth where thoughts fall like timber or thunder But an old wives tale still lingers and lingers And it says of a heart may be sent to arrest “Enter At Your Own Risk” The sign hangs in lucid sight but not so to frighten one who dares to fall into the same dream Then wake inside nowhere Stay caught in their nightmare A play from the start The stir of slumber Would have been safer The risk of death wavers What was once the Awaker is now the Sleeper Now the nightmare continues Joined with professor an undertaker Or maybe his wife the Grimmest of Reepers Regretfully should have read the sign Next time Awaken the one who stumbles in her sleep or the one who is grinding his teeth.
New Orleans Poetry
Little raccoon coming toward me Like a curious cat, panting He looks thirsty He’s closing in Little bandit Maybe he’s hungry He is watching me He does not read A butterfly flies past the tree That he has climbed
I Left Everything 6/11/2004
I left everything Packed up some clothes I left my hat, my TV my life, my sanity I left it all I don’t need the TV anyway
Workaholic 2/15/2003 Sat. 2:15
In this life Our souls are enslaved to our bodies
But my father’s body is enslaved to his soul In this life.
The Bath Tub 1/24/2003 3:38pm revised 4:03pm
I remember as a child filling the bath tub with plain water (bubbles only blocked the view) After slowly entering the warmth I would sit down and watch the water move all around me back and forth ignoring the feel of it’s embrace sitting still as the water slowed to accommodate the mass that invaded it’s space The water welcomed me with a stir then obeyed my motionless body The water in all it’s grace would wait for the next command of my body but I would not move
I remember the distance I remember the reflections The water surface reflected everything above and up to the ceiling But the reflection was endless to me I could see the vast distance I could fall through Looking down, past the surface tension someday I would fall through
I still wait to fall through every time I enter the bath tub I am 30 now.
Mamma's Kitchen 6/13/2002, revised 10/23/08
“One Day at a Time” Mamma sings She knows every word “How Great Thou Art” The melodies escape her so not to drown within her soul She ponders At the top of her voice she talks She tells of a story in constant momentum pacing her continuous walk She sings again of peace with Christ Go Mamma Go! And oh, Oh that cookin’ fo sho’! Rollin’ chicken in the flour to fry Boiling potatoes to mash with butter and milk Fresh green beans and okra from the garden and buttermilk biscuits are next to sop up the dumplings and gravy that drench the entire southern fried mess Oh but Oh soooo good! Comin’ outta Mamma’s kitchen! And the smell of that chicken! It’s not even 4 o’clock And we’ll probably eat by 5pm.
Summertime New Orleans is fine Humid by day Sultry by night On a roof nearby A poet is writing Escaping her mind Words without meaning But she tries Oh, so eloquently She still tries But not so eloquently These words do fly Here they have landed In black and white Without rhyme Summertime
Little does my companion know The naked image of his deceiving fire Conviction upon I must bestow To release and free this burning desire But to continue deception my heart will tire
Seeking warmth from untamed child Displayed heart begged for destined bruise Confused mind his chastity beguiled With simple pleasures that can’t be refused But tormented the self for a battle to lose
Rhythmic pounding of shameless flesh Temptation to words but never expressed Unclaimed lips in passionate embrace Then falter emotions through senseless sex With mindless gestures vaguely confessed
“And I will be the one” piece To a 3-D puzzle built in space A piece adrift amongst Capricorn Then encountered briefly around a lake To a fearless heron that saw my face
To witness my sin of vulnerability Trembling body screams with delight The bird gives warning of fatality The untimely escape of false reality With parting sweet souls, surrender tonight.
Resurrection of Guidance Heron As My Witness Part 2, 6/21/1999 6pm
Footsteps on a sidewalk around the lake Hands embraced with contentment Remembering encounters of a heron’s take Passion and surrendered moment Gazing stares through eyes of resentment
Blushing, conversing with a tender touch Trading childhood tales sans regret Comfort from one missed so much A heron anticipating with every step Kept thoughts of doubt until eyes had met
A bench awaiting a timeless memory To discover a thought soon to find Fulfilling heart where it was empty For a smile the eyes had left behind The heron’s guidance resurrected in mind
Delaying all words the eyes can see A smile follows from a lasting stare And the constant heron with a destiny Stands and awaits observing the pair While looking at one with obvious care
Witnessed a friendship beginning then A mission complete the bird takes flight While fearless lips connected again Smiling eyes exclude star-crossed sight Joining souls sweet surrender tonight.
Full Moon Instead Heron as My Witness Part 3, 7/29/1999 10PM
Full moon, full moon intensely shining summer scattered stars brightly smiling. Sparkling dew on fields of bedded grass surrounding a lake of glistening past. No heron in sight to catch an evening’s meal somewhere else loving hearts she can steal.
Dream Well For N. 7/29/1999 10PM
A burning path through veins so deep passions flowing making me weep. Your excited eyes stare fierce into mine conveying a message words cannot find. Penetrating thoughts of erotic play melting heat where our bodies had lay. Two hearts at rest in sleep to dwell spooning love motions of dreaming well.
Star-crossed Rejection Heron As My Witness Final Moments Inspired song Deception 6/20/2000 5PM
A breed of rejection Must feed on deception A belief of ones passion to be more than it is In the beginning Thoughts overriding A heart that was climbing fell quickly for his A heron's lookout Told stories of doubt She sensed the wrong route that both had taken Then guided sad eyes To a place in demise Star-crossed reprise short-lived once again A full moon one time No heron to find To witness in mind deception of this twosome But this was a warning Of misplaced joining Left souls in mourning.
end of series
Dream of Blue Sheep For M 9/27/2001
Like a child I fight my bedtime squirming around to not fall asleep but conscience cant find the Dream of Blue Sheep
Touch me please I'm a little girl kiss my breasts I'm a raging womyn Fuck my pussy like a prostitute of war Make love to the body of a little girl Stare in my eyes tears can't escape They fled to secrete and dampen the rage hips in slow motion like whales in the ocean grinding & pulling the girl still remains
Your penis swells as you approach my walls of honey
ready & soaked tapping with fingers and letting it out we fall into ecstasy together no doubt
Caress my face and see the child restless no more she waits for your smile So tell her the story in whispering sleep and how she will Dream of Blue Sheep.
Stumbled Love;span> Inspired by Phil M. 2/19/1999
Restless thoughts The beasts encountered Vacant heartbeat Hath love be stumbled Grieving eyes Of desperation To forget desire In all creation Swirling patterns Of broken dreams Where they're heard In distant screams Of stumbled love falling falling To a hole of messages left unsaid to survivors above For they are unknown to stumbled love.
Still Waiting Inspired by Phil M. 2/19/1999
Brisk fire of rage Tormenting souls of a relentless evilness Provoking one’s thoughts to torture one’s selflessness to pain the mind to complete nothingness Darkness filling a space for only one love.
Afternoon Delight For Robbie Rob 8 & 9/2000, 7/2005
A voice so tender and kind soft brown eyes I see in mind and a smile seeming sincere but thoughts get lost, never to find
My visit for just this sensual sight for him, a passionate afternoon delight intentional bodies are shared but attentiveness is the constant fight
Lost with words I speak too much to ease his limp suspension taking the blame for this touch or lack of any to mention
Still confused, the time to go sensing anxious anticipation for me to leave and never know the level of his humiliation
That voice so tender and kind soft brown eyes I saw in mind a smile that seemed sincere reflections lost in afternoon delight.
Fallen to fantasy Next door A child plays Stories once told Dirty hands escaped A tale forgotten Unjustly forgiven But the memory stayed Her innocence lost Next door Child’s play
Tempting Sex 3/18/2000
Deceiving Demeaning Making light Of what’s believing Sugar-coating the obvious Underlying syrup grieving If all was done Then all was won By the hopeful one And left me bleeding a love not forgotten.
A Dried-up Lake 9/27/2001
I think I'll go to the park today It's the one with a wooden walkway to overlook a dried-up lake Lake Jackson is its name The evil sinkholes drained the water and all its life away and under and out and to the Gulf They say it happens every 25 years but sadness a lake without tears
I think I'll go to the park today The one with a wooden walkway that overlooks A Dried-up Lake.
Marching Chickadees Rick, me & the chickadees off Raymond Diehl Road 2/15/2001 & 3/2/2001
And so it goes and says Of one leaf falling gently onto his leg gracefully and a peaceful death it was
Then the chickadees come one by one hungry for seeds she left to feed to await their songs of curious charm
Mania A Wednesday morning 8/8/2001
I imagine Outside myself Naked Upon the air Adrift In manic motion Twisting and turning My body Won’t float Limbs are pulling In every direction Like dancing to Melodic vibrations No pain But racing My brain Cannot stop
Oh – I yearn for peace but thoughts embracing a continuous trot through endless fields of energy that yield to nothing happy but ah to sleep that I may rest someplace deep where floating is option and twisting motion will cease and every melody can find its source crawl back to hide the trotting horse then all I've sensed will numb itself again I may be inside myself.
In a field of dead grass Brown consumes the worlds color No spirits to dwell this space
In a land of absent life Silence echoes the world’s voice And loneliness accompanies fate
Missing are the treetops of man Between mountains absent of song Where life has silenced the snowcaps And empty is the meaning of the forest
Missing are the treetops of the forest Between mountains absent of snowcaps Where man has silenced the song And empty is the meaning of life.
Conspiring Birds Sing To Mom & Dad Mothers Day and Fathers Day 5/14/2000 & 6/28/2000
Conspiring birds sing Oh the inspiration they bring Ah, but though The songs escape them Pressing further Into a breeze of oblivion Flowing through the leaves Of unborn trees Food for earth’s soil Where roots no longer spoil And let the rains toil Down with the liquid which gives life Up with the blossom that holds life Then down with the autumn leaves to end life But only to feed Beneath Encouraging the seed Above And continuing Conspiring birds sing Bringing life To everything!
A Place To Belong 9/19/2000
The weeping willow dreams Of a nightingale’s song For contentment in finding A place to belong A tune to surround her Like a sea to her shore And breathe the sweet sound of earth in a distant folklore Once this is found She would ask for no more
Surrounded By Love 6/23/1998
Soft and sweet with the bluest of eyes looking up at me for a big surprise.
She waits patiently as I dry myself so to spread her scent where it is not just a shower then step out of the tub I’m to sit with a towel she has taught. So happy and humming with such content she presses her paws gently around expecting a petting on her sweet head her scent all over now can be found.
Then a plea from my other love “Meow, meow hear me” she sends above.
Her stripes so defined her eyes so green big and bright with excitement her presence must be seen. Checking the tub for water left over her nose scopes up and down noticing me and her sister’s content she pounces right over not making a sound.
My little Loves are my perfumed scent that protects me once again so when I go out and into the world their love surrounds me from beginning to end.
A Lovely Little Life 12/10/1998 5:40am
A lovely little life came into mine more precious than gold or a gem to find Her eyes so soft with innocence and grace her symmetrical stripes that surround a sweet face In northern Alabama found a kitten small and meek crying for a rescue mission due to hunger and feeling weak Now a real home with three sisters to bear warmth and safety surround her a new life to share her hugs and kisses she freely hands out after frolicking and dancing and prancing about So chipper and playful and bouncing around hiding beneath blankets not making a sound With silent surrender she then offers a hum tender paws press gently to express appreciation
What did I do to deserve such a blessing? That which entered my world and gives me life’s lesson By teaching me love unconditional form this lovely little life which gratefully was born!