Lovely poems

[firecutting]

Just a few poems,I found , and loved. And thought i would share with you guys

Through pieces of April
And parts of May
Princely frogs
Come marching her way.
Fly-catching tongues
Flicker and snatch
Playing ribbit and croak
With eyes that don't match.
Up to the mountain
Fingertips itching
Sweating a fountain
All senses just twitching
Squeeze and wish on
A lily pad's root
Caressing and crushing
With a kiss on the snoot.
languishing touches
On the likes of such
Seeking fruition
(God, what a crutch!)
Ear looking eyes
Legs of pure motion
Who'd think they'd give
Such a God-awful
Notion.
Nites black seeming
Day not to come
Nites tadpole teeming
Black passions (run some)
Wishes for princes
Receding in time
The need for
Fresh frogs
Now that would
Be mine.

by M. L. Ward


The Long Way Home

'Hello, Puss! Hey!, Sweetie Puss is getting rather fat!'
Dad promptly switched attention from the T.V. to the cat,
Sweetie Puss purred smugly, her gently rounded tum
Proclaimed to all and sundry she was soon to be a Mum,
'Oh, no you don't,' Dad muttered and first chance on the sly
Dumped bewildered Sweetie Puss nine miles from Gundagai.

Sweetie Puss sat slightly stunned, thoughtful wide green eyes on
The disappearing tray truck dotting the horizon,
Gave herself a thorough grooming to restore affronted pride,
Why the marching orders and the one way ticket ride?
Abandoned and unwanted, confused instincts all awry,
She turned and headed eastward, away from Gundagai.

Youngsters waiting at the mailbox greeted her with eager fuss,
Hid her in a backpack on their school excursion bus,
Full of chocolate flavoured milk and peanut butter sandwiches
She slept until evicted by two startled lady teachers,
Green sweeping lawns, tall buildings, multicoloured flags on high,
She heard someone say 'Canberra' ... this wasn't Gundagai!

Puss followed feet and found herself listening critically
To a little man with some great plan he called the G.S.T.
A tax on this, a tax on that, she feared her coming brood,
Faced a dismal future, high priced milk and Kitty Food,
Hissed her disapproval, scratched the speaker, spat 'Goodbye',
Was picked up by a truckie far north of Gundagai.

A tempting breeze through Ipswich wafted 'fish and chips',
Puss haunted a shop doorway, licking hopeful lips,
A red haired lady fed her, 'You're not Siamese! All right,
Your kittens will be welcome, too, but only if they're white',
Puss recalled a big, black tomcat with a Casanova eye
And suddenly knew southward was the way to Gundagai.

Some tourists took her photograph to send back to Japan,
Shared dried fish and sushi in their tiny caravan,
A regretful 'sayonara' ... she'd travelled on too far,
Crossed the Murray River into Victoria,
Third Graders at a country school fixed a bed where she could lie,
Time out for a siesta, next stop Gundagai.

Awakened by kids crying, parents looking grim,
'The Casino and the Grand Prix are all that interests 'Him',
Our little school is closing, the hospital is gone,
We'll travel half a day to do our banking from now on,
'Jeffed' again!' Sweetie Puss heaved a puzzled sigh,
Liberal gains or ... labour pains! She must reach Gundagai.

An exhausted cat limped up the drive and just before full dawn,
On Dad's old woolly jumper five perfect kits were born,
The children were delighted, Dad gave a rueful grin,
Wishing she could tell them exactly where she'd been,
'Gotta hand it to you, Sweetie Puss, I didn't think you'd try
To trek the long way home again, nine miles to Gundagai!!'

By Margaret Glendenning