Poetry

Hi Harry:  Lovely poem again.  Did you write it?

Andy/Denzil (don't know who to address anymore lol) Brilliant!!!  That's some kind of brain(s) you have there. 

Yes, Ruth.  Here's one for the Kiddies!

You Either Love Cats Or…..

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Over the hills, in caves of stone
Where witches in hooded cloaks intone
Stirred their potions in cast-iron pots
A mixture of snails and lizards with spots
And feet of rabbit, and poisonous weeds
All seasoned well with garlic seeds
Stirred for hours ‘til it formed a gel
They then removed it and blended it well
With orange toadstools and frogs entrails
Garnished it with acorns and silver-fish tails
And served in the skulls of feral cats
The witches sat around on raffia mats
As the moon rose and reached its peak
Not one of the witches was allowed to speak
In the far corner in one of the rooms
(Where the witches stored their brooms)
Sat a grey mouse, hungry and still
He watched as the coven ate their fill
They then, began to perform a dance
And all but one fell into a trance
One kindly witch had stayed awake
For the little grey mouse’s sake
She hid in her apron a morsel of fat
(I do believe it was a piece of a cat)
The mouse quietly crept from its secret place
A rapturous smile upon its face
It examined the pot for scraps of the fare
But all he could do was sit and stare
Not even the tiniest piece of food remained –
“Another night feeling hungry,” he complained
The mouse went sadly, back to its hole
There was no-one about – not a single soul
Then all of a-sudden he heard a sound
He leapt out of bed, put his feet on the ground
And standing before him was the kind crone
In her black witches-gown, all alone
And out of her pocket, she removed the lard
“Eat it quickly, while I stand guard”
Said she, keeping watch at the door
The little grey mouse was hoping for more!
He looked at the food then turned up his nose
“What do you think this is…what d’you suppose?”
He asked indignantly, as he looked at the fat
“As far as I can tell, it’s a piece of a cat”
Said the black-hooded witch with a frown
"Well I cannot eat that it wouldn’t stay down
I’ve never liked cats from the day I was born"
The little grey mouse replied with a scorn.

Welcome to POE Harry   and may I congratulate you on your wonderful poems, you certainly have a great talent!

Andy, love ''The horse whisperer of old Bodmin town''  lol

This MAY not fall within the precise bounderies of the sonnet...nevertheless, here it is-

                   The waterfall cascades down mossy rocks

                  As evening sunlight shines upon its fall

                  Beyond the mountain’s craggy summit line

                  An eagle soars, as thermals catch its wings

                  And gilt edged cirrus clouds amalgamate

                  A sign of clement changes in the air

                  From far below in valley’s pasture, deep

                  The low of cattle wafts upon the breeze

                  Towards the East a canopy of leaves -

                  Of shades of bottle green and autumn gold

                  And Westward, ’tween the boughs of oaken wood  

                  A momentary glimpse of Ocean’s shore

                  I contemplate this panoramic view

                  And now behold the beauty of God’s earth

Hi Harry, warm welcome to POE. I love poetry and I love those poems too.

Ron, I wasn't 5 minutes late, I was nearly 2 hours early!

Sue G.R. no matter what, those memories stay with you forever.

Ruth, I don't mind being called Andy or Denzil! lol.

Ray, sorry I mucked up your plans!

My thanks to all who, with warm hearts, greeted me.  My apologies for the sour-puss image of me ...I am undertaking equally disgusting treatment for Lukaemia...I may even write a poem on the theme

Harry