Scaredy Cat

Found a scarred baby kitty near my house.
I snuck up from behind, quiet as a mouse.
With the speed of a rabbit I swooped to snatch.
Firmly grasped this beast was no match.

I wrestled it home then in a box placed.
But out it jumped and off it raced.
Hours passed, they’re nowhere in sight.
Darkness brought hunger, I turned on the light.

Heading to the kitchen to sharpen my knives,
a delicacy awaits, best of our lives.
The table now set but the cat still unfound.
My stomach growled with a roaring sound.

A smell overwhelmed one I knew well.
The cat had pooped, I slipped and fell.
Hitting the floor my head hit hard.
Waking much later, the kitten stood guard.

Rolling over I grabbed the fury beast.
Then back to the kitchen to prepare this feast.
With pepper, mayo and onions diced my way.
Our sandwiches gobbled then together we play.

~*~
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Rememidies

Loaded all the way,
I devoured my fifth hot dog.
Then off to woods to play.

Soon thereafter I paused for a nap.
Into the night I dozed.
Till awakened by a dragons tap.

Not knowing what to do.
Into my pocket I reached.
I then found a tums, then two!

I hurriedly hurled them at the beast.
They landed squarely in their mouth.
The dragon thought they a tasty feast.

Swallowed far, fizzling as it they go,
twas the taste of pure magic.
A feeling a dragon doesn’t know.

The Beast soon burped a thunder.
Yet flames failed to spew.
The creature thought what a wonder.

Seems a dragon’s fire’s easily explained,
tis simply a diet gone awry.
And with it their agony ingrained.

Best of friends we both now be.
So if you should see a dragon.
Remember – nothing spicy!

~*~
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A Christmas Tail

Chapter 1 ~ the Beginning

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All’s quiet this early winter’s night.

Embers fade in the candles dancing light.

I was thinking of Christmas, many years past.

Those fond old memories, now fading fast.

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I recalled when our home came alive.

I was just a small girl of about five.

It was a grand old house for mom, dad and me.

Sat perched on a hill overlooking the sea.

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It’s still a museum in our little town.

It was built by a General of historic renown.

Shared with his bride Martha, she had a sad life.

The General’s a hero, she a young widowed wife.

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We cared for the house and gave the tours.

All year-long we opened our doors.

We welcomed the guest to step back in time.

So come on in and share our rhyme.

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I lay awake and tossed and turned.

Thinking of school and all I learned.

Letters and numbers and new friends,

I hope kindergarten never ends.

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My thought disturbed by shapes on the wall,

a moonlit dance, shadows big and small.

It pranced to my table that’s set for tea.

There’s a seat for Teddy and Dolly plus one for me.

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It climbed the chair with a dancer’s grace.

She must be a girl with a whiskered face.

Dolly left some crumbs on her plate.

When I remembered it was too late.

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I Left a treat each night for a week.

I tried staying awake to catch a peek.

I’ll call her Martha, like our homes bride

But when I giggled she ran to hide.

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Chapter 2 ~ New Friends

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The days passed, she’d visit most nights.

She kept unseen until I turn out the lights.

She knows I’m cozy in my warm bed.

She smiles and winks, thankful she’s fed.

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One night I waited, still in my chair.

Starlight warmed the chilly night air.

Eyelids dropped like the falling moon.

I hope my visitor gets here soon.

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Night turned to-day, feet cold on the floor.

I missed my friend but goodies no more.

The next night I brought a cookie to bed.

I woke with my new friend by my head.

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Days got colder, Christmas was near.

I looked forward to the snacks we share.

Each passing night our friendship grows.

We chat and laugh, I scratch her nose.

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Thanksgiving’s past, Santa’s on his way.

The tree goes up, brighter each day.

We’re happy to welcome all our new guests,

while I wore my new colonial dress.

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I tell them of the homes long past,

Of all that’s lived here, my family last.

I tell them of their history.

But never a word of Martha and me.

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On the last day of school before the break,

we celebrated with carols and cake.

We shared cards and hugs then on our way.

We’re off to the bus and our long holiday.

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Glad to be home, much to be done.

Baking and wrapping with mom will be fun.

I think Christmas is the best time of year.

There’s lots of visits from friends far and near.

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Chapter 3 ~ Good and Bad

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It’s not just gifts that makes Christmas best.

It’s all the excitement, no time for rest.

One snowy day mom and I went to town.

Main Street’s so merry, never a frown.

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When we returned from our last-minute shop,

we saw a truck with a light on top.

A man in a hard-hat talked with my dad.

They both spoke quietly and looked very sad.

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My parents whispered, thought I didn’t hear.

Something’s was broken too much to repair.

Said we’re leaving, where they don’t know.

I loved our home and didn’t want to go.

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I gave the last tour on that very sad day.

We finished our cocoa with little to say.

Mom read aloud then kissed me goodnight.

Dad tucked me in, turned out the light.

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I lay sobbing at the loss of our house.

No new friends, no Martha the mouse.

I then had a plan and ran for my bank.

Shook out the coins and my little heart sank.

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Martha came close, she knew I was sad.

I forgot the snacks but she wasn’t mad.

We counted my pennies in moonlight,

then crept downstairs later that night.

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We tucked my bank under the tree.

It’s for our old house from Martha and me.

But one last thing and then back to bed.

A snack for Martha and a pat on her head.

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My dad woke me early that Christmas day.

I knew he was sad, he smiled anyway.

We met mom in the hall, headed downstairs.

We all acted happy while holding back tears.

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Chapter 4 ~ New Beginnings

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The cookies were gone, Santa was here.

Beneath the tree, present are there.

But shocked to see something I’d never seen.

There are stacks of coins, sleeping mice in between.

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They ate Santa’s cookies then took a nap.

All snuggled together in the Christmas wrap.

Sleeping soundly until mom screams.

Then all were awakened from their dreams.

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Martha stood out front and winked at me.

She waved me over to come and see.

The piles of treasure they found last night.

That was lost under the floorboards out of sight.

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The Generals treasure, his coins of gold.

There’s enough to fix our homes splendor of old.

Martha saved our house and Christmas too.

She helped write this rhyme to share with you.

*

We wish you the best this holiday.

May all your days be just your way.

We’re glad to have shared our time as one.

From all of us here at our house of fun.

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The End    

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Waking Up

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Waking up’s the best time of day.

What will I wear, what will I play?

It’s time to think of things to do.

First find my pants and missing shoe.

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Wipe from my eyes the sleeps last trace.

I’ll brush my teeth, wash hands and face.

My bed’s made, teddy’s on pillow,

But one last hug before I go.

~

To the kitchen, mom will be there,

Making breakfast for us to share.

We chat about things to be done,

Some of it work, some of it fun.

~

Finish dressing put dreams away.

It’s time to start a brand new day.

That’s why waking up is the best.

But can’t do that without your rest.

~

The End

*

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I Saw Today

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(Memories of birthdays past)

I saw today my baby’s start

 Opened her eyes and stole my heart

 ~

 I saw today her smile at me

 We brought her home, safe as can be

 ~

 I saw today her tucked in bed

 Gently leaned over to kiss her head

 ~

 I saw today my baby weep

 Snuggled her gently back to sleep

 ~

 I saw today my baby eat

 Covered from head to little feet

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 I saw today my baby sit

 Then fell over in a giggle fit

 I saw today my baby crawl

 Tried to escape down the hall

 ~

 I saw today my baby stand

 Holding my finger in her hand

 ~

 I saw today my baby walk

 Then soon after began to talk

 ~

 I saw today my baby run

 Laughing and screaming, having  fun

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 I saw today her surprise art

 The wall and it shall never part

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 I saw today she bruised her knee

 Climbed too high and fell from the tree

 ~

 I saw today her play tattoo

 0n her belly, red, green and blue

~

I saw today her find a cat

Opened the door and that was that

I saw today her ride a bike

Though too young to be off  her  trike

 ~

I saw today she learned to swim

Tub’s full, splashes over the rim

 ~

I saw today her play a song

Tiny violin with bow so long

I saw today my baby grew

She had to shop for something new

 ~

I saw today her off to school

Not holding hands, acting cool

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I saw today she was funny

On the coach napping with bunny

 ~

I saw today her go to the dance

Just for fun and not for romance

I saw today her drive a car

I hope she doesn’t go too far

 ~

I saw today her graduate

Then off to college, she’ll do great

~

I saw today my baby grown

Off to the city, on her own

 ~

I saw today her new career

Making art for people to wear

 ~

I saw today she’s just like us

The best of both, with little fuss

*

The Beginning

~*~

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My Pencil

My pencil in hand – mind set free
Erasing the chains binding me
Safe in my world of poetry
A better friend there cannot be

No rhyme or reason there’s to flee
No shackles of society
No meter of conformity
No question of sincerity

No judge, jury or guilty plea
No door can stop my slender key
I’ll wander through infinity
Another side of life’s journey

Draw lines that know no boundary
Return with words for all to see
Arrange them well – create beauty
Then thank my little piece of tree

~

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My Friend and Me

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When I was small, my friend was tall.

Through my window it watched me grow.

Friends always near though winters bare.

Waiting for spring, leaves green, birds sing.

 ~

Sit in the shade, memories made.

Arms are growing, leaves are glowing.

Branches so high – climb to the sky.

Or ride the swing, picnic to bring.

Then soon its fall, colors for all.

Float to the ground – pile in a mound.

Jump in and play, brisk autumn day.

Another year past all sprouting fast.

Leaves shake, wind blows, hot days, cold snows.

We’ve stood together in all-weather.

But when I’m all grown, out on my own.

I’ll miss my tree and it’ll miss me.

 ~

The End

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Don’t Know

I need a formula to know when best to write.
I write randomly most every day and night.
Rarely is it very good but sometimes it’s all right.

~

In search of inspiration everywhere I go.
Some hit in an instant, some never show.
Moods always vary as the poems reflect.
The good and bad, I think are quite easy to detect.

~

Sometime when feeling good I’ve nothing good to write.
That ticks me off assuring a terrible night.
But when feeling down writing helps me feel all right.

~

Yet the time is spent either way,
though always writing of yesterday.
Where’s the balance, it’s there I’ll go.
So if anybody knows, please let me know.

~*~
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