humor

Alesha the Cat

Alesha_poem_skittell

Daddy, daddy come quick and see.

There are big eyes staring at me.

In the window there, can you see?

It’s a kitty looking back at me.

~

Please can we keep her, can we please?

I’ll wash her good if there are fleas.

We gave her some milk on a plate.

It seemed like hours I had to wait.

~

Then mom came home, was kitty there?

Yes! – She’s napping on the porch chair.

Mom and dad had a little chat.

They called me in and there I sat.

~

Hoped to hear we have a new pet.

“First” they said “a trip to the vet”

“Vet” I said “whatever is that?”

They said “a doctor for your cat.”

~

Found a box, she fit just right.

Curled in a towel ” out of sight.

Into the car and off we go.

To a new place I didn’t know.

~

Never been to a vet before.

Many new things behind the door.

There’s lots of cats and dogs of course.

But shocked to see a tiny horse.

~

Saw a snake and a talking bird.

Said some words I’ve never heard.

The vet was fun just like the zoo.

But I was glad when we were through.

~

We brought her home, she disappeared.

Hid under the bed like mom feared.

To get her out we had a plan.

Gave her some tuna from a can.

~

That didn’t work, mom tried a trick.

She tied some yarn on a long stick.

I wiggled the yarn on the floor.

We saw a paw and then two more.

~

Next was a tail then furry head.

Now she’s out from under my bed.

Gave her a scratch as she ran past.

To the new food she ate too fast.

~

We gave her some time to explore.

She made a big mess on the floor.

Dad cleaned it up, almost got sick.

Mom finished the job; I said “Ick!”

~

And when done we all had a laugh.

Thankful our cat wasn’t a calf.

Then made a list for a quick shop.

A litter box was at the top.

~

Boxes and bags of this and that,

Much was needed for our new cat.

While we were out dad took a nap.

Our new kitty curled on his lap.

~

She woke with a stretch and a purr.

Licking her paws and stripey fur.

Dad woke next and was surprised.

By his new friend’s big sleepy eyes.

~

He cuddled her close, scratched her ears.

Mom smiled, I thought I saw tears.

Then we all had a good giggle.

Watching kitty twist and wiggle.

~

Mom picked her up, gave her a hug.

Put her down gently on the rug.

The cutest thing I ever did see.

But what to call my new kitty?

~

She’ll be Alesha, our cat “A”.

Like in the book I read today.

By a doctor who wrote fun rhymes.

I’ve read them all oodles of times.

~

Now’s time to sleep, our day is done.

I hope tomorrows just as fun.

Tucked in bed, Alesha and me.

Soon to dream of little cat “B”.

~

The End

~

 sck080314

Available at :

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468855

READER SETS PRICE!!!

WOW!

I started today with “WOW!”, though I don’t know how it ends.
I’ll have a stress-free day and share some time with friends.
I coulda started the day with “Aw sh*t, here we go again”
But we all know what’s gonna happen then.
~
I’m gonna live my life the way I live in my dreams.
But the life of a dreamer’s not always as it seems.
I’m gonna do something that makes me feel smart.
And a well-chosen word’s the perfect place to start.

~*~
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Re-Pair

While bending over backwards to hold my tongue,
my head touched the dirt, and I twisted my lung.
My body flipped over, my knees smashed on the ground.
Pain then followed and a loud cracking sound.
~
I rose to my feet or so I had planned.
The pain overcame and my plan was panned.
Back on the ground writhing in disgust,
I choose expediency over timely self-trust.
~
One word unsaid was then none to follow,
my tongue now mends, yet heart remains hollow.

~*~
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Good Luck

Today’s the thirteenth, as you may know.
The only Friday I wish would go.
Today’s the day to stay in bed.
Today’s the day I always dread.
~
Lock the doors and stay inside.
Tomorrow’s soon, today I’ll hide.
Luck’s for those who choose to wait.
Bad luck happens no matter the date.
~
Superstition is what we choose it to be.
But being safe is what matters to me.
We all can do as we may choose,
life and limb is yours to lose.

~*~
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Chronic-call

~

Horrors penned in tomes of fear
Words unseen in a shadows lair
Forever night when cover’s tight
Wings blossom in morning light

Rolling stones gathering moss
When time renders motions loss
Unknown saints wear heavy cross
Unbound future our only boss

Times absorbed in a sponge
Fills the well to take the plunge
Return from pleasure, pre-desire
Or the heat of ice and frozen fire

Air-less caverns running swift
Bloodied quill the only gift
Flightless birds soaring high
Pages fluttering in endless sky

Spiraling upward for the crest
Touching down – needed rest
Sleepless specter, broken spine calls back
Ink floods lines, sheets fill black

Dark and light fill lengthy fall
Return we must to journey’s all
To do what’s right, a writers call
Recording all, big and small

~*~

sck101614

Wheels

~

I like wheels – that’s what I like.

Cars or trucks or a motor bike,

wheels make me smile and grin.

Some wheels spin in wind on a pin.

~

I wish I had wheels on my feet.

Then I can zoom down the street.

Up the ramp and flying high,

wheeling through the open sky.

~

I wish I had wheels on my chair.

I could get things way over there.

I could scoot in my stocking feet.

Or reach things high standing on seat.

~

Wheels go round and round in my head.

I wish I had wheels on my bed.

Then I can drive to all my dreams.

Win all the races, hear crowd screams.

~

In the garage, my wheels parked there.

Soon I’ll be out, wind in my hair.

First kick tires, adjust the seat.

Polish the chrome isn’t she sweet.

~

Check the mirror so I can see,

everything – way behind me.

Yes – riding fast is what I like.

On all three wheels of my trike.

~*~

The End

sck091114

Spare Me

The waiting’s over, my time is here.
The day is new, let’s spread the cheer.
The sky’s blue and the grass is green.
The birds are singing, the future’s seen.
~
The morning began much the same.
Yesterday’s wishes never came.
Dreams of the night faded away.
Eyes now open to yet another day.
~
Something’s different, I don’t know why.
Perhaps it’s the cloudless, deep blue sky.
Maybe springtime has filled my head.
Or could my head is done with the dread.
~
I don’t know how much time I’ve to live.
I don’t know how much more I can give.
I don’t know and I don’t much care.
This feels so good I’d love a spare.
~
I do know how much more I can take.
But today’s the day that I would make.
Then make more for all to enjoy.
Peace and love to all us hoi polloi.

~*~
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Empty Lot

Our empty lot’s not empty at all.
There’s a tree that’s big and tall.
It’s a place that kids love to share.
It’s on my street so mom needn’t care.

We spend sunny days in the shade.
There’s lots of dreaming in forts we made.
There’s bunches of dirt to dig deep holes.
Rainy puddles for toy fishing poles.

Our empty lot really has it all,
We hide and seek and sometimes play ball.
It’s the place where adventures begin.
A fence to keep the city out and us in.

We’ve bugs and spiders, squirrels and cats.
There’s soft grass to sit for quiet chats.
We see dogs on leashes and birds in the sky,
Some tweet, sing sweet, bark, run and fly.

There’s rope jumping girls and running boys.
Everyone brings their favorite toys.
Weeds make jungles for our tiny men.
Tiny cars get lost, then are found again.

A place on Sundays for dads to mow.
A place anytime where friendships grow.
When the days fun is done, we all say goodnight.
To our good old friend, under the street light.

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Bearly a Story

With a snowy blanket to ward of the chill,
deep in the forest a den lay still.
Then spring arrives, eyes soon gaze,
all that’s missed in the winter’s haze.
~
The most daring, of course, popped out first,
the second unsure but for their thirst.
While the last clung to their hungry mom,
till out she burst, not seeking calm.
~
In the new light the young family squinted.
Then in a blink the awed group splintered.
Mama was busy with breakfast in her sights.
The cubs were curious of nature’s delights.
~
Full of fear the timid cub sat alone.
With teary eyes closed all was unknown.
The adventurous pair now frolicked out of view.
Mama roared and they all knew what to do.
~
Back at the den the family again met.
Mama spoke firmly and new rules set.
Wherever she goes the cubs will too.
And what she says is what they’ll do.
~
Each a reason to not like what was said.
Each had ideas in their very own head.
Sticking together down the path they forged,
when new grass found for all to gorge.
~
A stream nearby was sure to taste nice,
it’s wintry fresh but cold as ice.
The foolish pair dove in and quickly back out.
The timid one laughed and mama was in doubt.
~
For the cubs it was their second spring.
But mama feared they hadn’t learned a thing.
Their season’s short with much to do.
Will her cubs be ready, she hadn’t a clue.
~
Back safe in their den all were glad,
bellies were full and fun was had.
The next day started much the same.
For two of the cubs it all seemed a game.
~
Grabbing for a beehive and to their surprise,
this prickled pair soon felt it unwise.
Fallen from the tree to roll down the hill,
a vacant hive was about to thrill.
~
While the humbled duo ran off in fright.
The shy little cub had lunch in sight.
With hardly a care they lunged for the treat.
Head first they met, the greeting sweet.
~
Mama returned hearing her cubs horrid wail.
But seeing her sticky one she knew the tale.
With a quick loving lick down the path she rushed.
At least for now one cub was hushed
~
Back at the stream the others found unharmed.
Mama’s relieved though still alarmed.
Did the cubs recall or was it a whim;
a lesson learned that bees can’t swim.
~
The bears then flew back, hasty to arrive.
There they all dove into that tasty hive.
The cubs soon napped and mama felt less fear.
And this is barely a story, unless you’re a bear.

~*~
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365 / 1

Mother’s Day comes in May,
the perfect time of year.
Flower’s blooming everywhere,
share a bunch and spread the cheer.
~
Yet moms are here every day,
perfect from day one.
They watched us bloom from nowhere.
And their sharing’s never done.
~
So, one day a year don’t forget:
flowers, lunch and, of course, a card.
All those things are everywhere.
It shouldn’t be that hard.

~*~
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Patterns, Patterns, Patterns

Patterns, Patterns seen, felt and heard,
some imaginary, some absurd.
Some are real and some deceive,
some are made to make us believe.
~
Time has a pattern, we call it time.
Life has a pattern, two sides of prime.
Joy’s pattern runs every other cycle.
The space between varies by psychal.
~
Identifying patterns is a chore or a game.
Seen from afar they all look the same.
Personal patterns are for us to decide.
Why be camo with nothing to hide?

~*~
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Get Moving, Slow Down

Old faces with familiar habits,
stare at me from the past.
The memory’s now so far away.
Their lessons now close at last.
~
A wrinkle in time times many,
blur the scars of choice.
The bleeding now in disguise.
The heart now sees its voice.
~
A ticking clock ticks equally.
Its hands know no master.
Moments are for all to share.
The habitual consumed faster.
~
Pontiication’s a double edge sword,
thoughts dissected but time’s cut.
A balance is needed but not to weigh.
But to digest what’s in thy gut.

~*~
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I Would If

If today were to be my first,
where would my path lead?
Would it be a quest for good,
or a race for lust and greed?
~
If today were to be my last,
what regrets must I endure?
Would there be too few to count,
or too many to be sure?
~
If today I could have chosen,
why wouldn’t it be the same?
Would a quiet day with friends be best,
or to suffer tomorrow’s shame.

~*~
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Timely

While searching for time I lost my mind.
With days to pass I’ve seconds to find.
A second helping or a second chance,
my heart’s ticking my feet yell dance.
~
Nature’s music fills my ears.
A show of hands notes the years.
A watch found strikes back at me.
Its shattered face says nothing’s free.
~
Beneath this glass all is well.
Time moves on and yet still I dwell.
Alarm bells ringing, my hour’s been found.
Wind me up, I’m timely bound.

~*~
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Springing Into Action

Mowers, blowers and flame throwers, it’s time to clean my yard.
Spring is here, just once a year, so it’s really not that hard.
Leaves and weeds and other debris will all just disappear.
And it only takes an hour or so, but my neighbors all live in fear.
~
The police get called and a laugh we share, when the yelling’s done.
The officer gave the thrower a try and had never had such fun.
The smoke finally clears; my work is done; it’s time now to relax.
I think I’ll wear shorts today and take off these flame-proof slacks.

~*~
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May Be Soon

April showers may bring May flowers.
But it ruined my new suede shoes.
I was going out for a first date,
but now I got the blues.
~
Car wouldn’t start and my bike had a flat.
My cell phone bill was long unpaid.
I walked for nearly an hour,
my nerves tattered and frayed.
~
I got to the movie, it was too late,
my date was nowhere in sight.
I turned around and headed back home.
I was hoping for an end to this night.
~
The rain was getting heavier;
the wind started to blow.
I huddled in an alleyway.
I waited for the storm to go.
~
A policeman stopped, just to check,
making sure I was O K.
I told him the whole story,
every detail of that day.
~
He gave me a lift to my house.
But my keys I had locked inside.
My wallet too was forgotten,
I then went for another ride.
~
I made a call at the station;
my mom must have gone out.
I then retold my story;
the cops looked on with doubt.
~
They stuck me in a crowded cell,
I was tired, wet and cold.
The others asked what I was in for.
My story again was told.
~
Some thought it was funny;
some thought I was a fool.
One said I was cute,
he thought my shoes were cool.
~
I didn’t sleep at all that night,
afraid of what might come.
I shivered there for hours,
my feet were getting numb.
~
My mother finally showed up,
she strolled in at around noon.
She yelled that I should grow up.
I said I may and May can’t come too soon.

~*~
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Sick Day

~

Bright sunny day, nothing to do.
Stuck at home in bed with the flu.
Watched TV as long as I could.
And did some homework, like I should.

.

I tossed and I turned, sipped some tea.
The warm fall day was mocking me.
Temperature stable, chills no more.
Then a knock on my bedroom door.

.

It was mom come to check my head.
Not hot or cold, then out of bed.
I passed her test, done with my rest.
Going outside will be the best.

.

But that is not to be the way.
Had to stay in another day.
Picked at supper, slept through TV.
Dad tucked me in then read to me.

.

Just to make sure that I’m all right.
Mom checked on me all the long night.
Slept Okay, woke ready to go.
But to do what I didn’t know.

.

Was really bored by midday.
Ran out of things alone to play.
Then found a key looking for more.
I tried every single door.

.

I checked and checked every lock.
I even tried the grandfather clock.
Every drawer, box and chest,
I checked them all, I did my best.

.

Found no treasure, just this old key.
At least it was something to amuse me.
With just minutes before my show,
Thought of another place to go.

.

The dusty, dark, spooky attic,
No place to be, when you are sick.
Turning the knob ever so slow,
Not sure if I wanted to go.

.

I’ve never been up there alone.
Then opened the door to the unknown.
Creaky stairs beneath my cold feet.
Dangers unknown that I might meet.

.

Darkness at the top of the stair.
Felt for the switch, I hoped was near.
With a flick my fear gone away.
More to explore on my sick day!

.

Much the same as when last here,
Boxes and cobwebs everywhere.
But not a lock to be found.
I searched and searched all around.

.

But in a dark corner never seen,
A little door painted green.
It had no slot for any key.
Opening it was up to me.

.

I admit I was very scared.
I stood for minutes and just stared.
Then lifting the latch, my hands shake.
Could this be another mistake?

.

Opened the door, hinges squeak.
Stuck in my head to take a peek.
The room’s empty, nothing at all,
Except a shelf high on a wall.

.

Found an old wobbly chair nearby.
Standing worried, reaching too high.
Pulled down the box hidden on shelf.
More than ever proud of myself.

.

I put in my key and it fit.
But wasn’t ready to open it.
I brought the box back to my room.
Into the light and out of the gloom.

.

Box on desk, took key from pocket.
Put it in slot, turned to unlock it.
Opened the lid ever so slow.
Not sure if I wanted to know.

.

What treasures lie hidden from view?
Something good or a pile of goo.
Lid half-open, footsteps I hear.
Then closed the lid when mom came near.

.

Mom opened it up, said to me;
“That’s no place for a dragon to be.
I’ve looked high and low, all over,
For the dragon Gramp’s called Rover.

.

He wasn’t a creative guy.
But could pluck dragons from the sky.
But only when they’re very small,
Safe in hand and curled in a ball.

.

Then hid for a terrible day,
When there are demons to chase away.
You can visit, never at night,
That’s when dragons grow, in moonlight.

.

So keep it tiny in its box –
Or they get huge and tough as rocks.
Some are sweet, most others mean.
That’s why it best to keep unseen.”

.

Closed the lid before I could see.
She turned the lock and kept my key.
“You don’t need to go by yourself.
Attic’s safe with dragon on shelf.

.

Put the box back and close the door.
And try not to think of it anymore.”
Back downstairs, ready for bed.
But now there’s a dragon in my head.

.

They can be all colors or shapes,
Some are purple and round like grapes.
Some are short, some tall as a tree,
Some are small and cute just like me.

.

I’m glad there’s a dragon upstairs.
Now I can sleep without nightmares.
Not such a bad sick day at all.
I got better and had a ball.

.

Now when nothing to do or see.
I don’t have to search for a key.
You don’t need keys to unlock a door.
That’s what imagination’s for.

~*~

The End

sck092414

Cherry on Top Sundries Shoppe

Every Sunday me and my Pop

Take a walk to the old sundries shop

Winter’s in boots and summer flip-flops

Anytime to the Cherry on Top

*

It’s not just a store, it’s so much more

A magic box filled with sundries galore

It’s everyone’s first and their last stop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Welcoming doors always polished bright

Welcoming all to their sundries delight

Every week is a brand new crop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

*

A place with things too many to list

Lipsticks for lips that want to be kissed

There are bouncing balls and bats that bop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Combs and brushes for hair and teeth

Halloween treats and Holiday wreaths

Baskets for bunnies with ears that flop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Row after row of this’s and that’s

There are racks for jackets, hooks for hats

Handles for brooms and buckets for mops

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

There’s cases packed with trinkets so bright

Batteries stacked for flashlights at night

They’ve got cards to send and cards to swap

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Way at the back, there’s medicines there

Carefully mixed by people who care

They carefully measure, count and chop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Then the place – my favorite of all

It’s the lunch-counter, where I sit tall

Serving pie with whipped cream and gumdrops

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

They’ve cakes, cookies, turkey and roasts

My dad always gets; juice, eggs and toast

Sunday’s best at the old sundries Shoppe

I get my sunday, cherry on top

~

The End

.

Sck102314

Natures’ Poetic Puzzle

Why can’t I be a bumble bee?

Bumbling about, nectar’s free

I could hover or dash in a flash

Come home to a queen with my golden stash

 ~

I’d love to be a robin on the first day of spring

I’d soar from my nest and into the sky I’d sing

Perhaps a baby bunny, nibbling on fresh greens

I’d hop from clump to clump napping in-between

 ~

Maybe a child on their first new bike

That new sense of freedom that’s what I’d like

Until, of course, the inevitable fall

Some try again, some not at all

 ~

I want to be a billionaire

Living life without a care

A mighty oak would be grand

Or Saguaro cacti, kings of the sand

 ~

But I’m not, I’m just me

Thankful for the nature that I see

Writing of things I can’t be

Content with the puzzle of poetry

~

Sck050715

Cuckoos Clock

Hands rise

Weights fall

Chimes sing

Birds see

Cuckoos all

`

Keys twist

Springs wind

Gears mesh

Spindles turn

Hands unkind

`

Travel on

Sunny face

Divided lines

Hide numbers

Perpetual race

`

Hands fall

Weights rise

Chimes strike

Birds die

Cuckoo’s wise

`

Keys open

Spring trap

Hours Chime

Birds sing

Hands clap

`

Travel off

Years shock

Number’s turn

Time winds

Cuckoos clock

~

sck102714

Distractable

I woke before the sun.
To have my morning fun.
But I couldn’t see my pad.
And my memory’s really bad.
~
I waited for the light.
To free me from the night.
But my pencil disappeared.
And my memory is as feared.
~
I found a piece of chalk.
But then I saw a hawk.
I forgot the task at hand.
I’m sure it would be grand.
~
I took a step outside.
The hawk flew off to hide.
A squirrel then ran past.
Man, are those guys fast!
~
The chalk now is dust.
My morning’s now a bust.
The sun’s now getting high.
And I now wonder why.

~*~
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