Author Information
Archibald
Stalking moles like big game
in the Serengeti,
you are hunter and angel,
killer and the softest of souls.
Always posing, you lovable
ego-maniac,
your fairy-sized thunder
on my lap
as I embrace the lion,
now reduced to a whipped-cream
ninja in my arms,
is a cure for this
chain of days
that makes me feel like
your trophy prey
in a makeshift, plastic
paradise we accept like
lobotomized cadets . . .
marching, marching always
in a bubble of pain
and marching still.
Thank you for showing up,
my Atlas to a world
unhinged and falling.
Thank you for being the
kindest light between
the rocks.
I will serve with respect.
I am honored to be your
faithful human.
Patricia Joan Jones
a world in words
"lobotomized cadets . . .
marching, marching always
in a bubble of pain
and marching still".
a world in a few words
Thank you for your beautiful
Thank you for your beautiful soulprints.
I hope the cat is well. You
I hope the cat is well. You have honored him in this poem, and, I suspect, he knows it somehow. I once heard a comic say that the ancient Egyptians worshipped cats, and since then no cat has ever forgotten this. We lost one of our cats to a freak accident just down the road from our house.
Starward
So sorry for your loss. I
So sorry for your loss. I know the pain, and it is as difficult as losing a human friend. Thank you for reading and sharing that fascinating story.
Yes it hurt bad, especially
Yes it hurt bad, especially as I had to witness it. But thanks for understanding, and for posting the poem.
Starward
Thank you for taking the time
Thank you for taking the time to read this and for your encouraging comment.
Poet As Painter
"...the kindest light between the rocks..." - enjoyed this point and counter point
giggling...
this just gave me a big chuckle
Copyright © morningglory
Thank you for reading and
Thank you for reading and appreciating this.