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MRS. HIGGENS’ NUISANCE CAT

Copyright 2012 Gordon Kuhn

Poet In The Rain Productions

T’was Mrs. Higgins’ cat we all soon came to fear,

as the damn cat in hunger boldly grew closely very near

to anyone wandering loose about outside without a stick

to whack that furry devil beast with a good two handed flick.

Instead we pretended to not notice it upon each other happily chewing

while seated chatting with cookies as a pot of tea was brewing.

Someone said, finally and unashamedly, bring in the hound!

And so we trotted off to the local humane animal holding pound

to fetch back Rollie Rottenstien, a Rotweiler of some repute

whose winning streak in battles or puppies born no one would ever dispute

to face off old dead Mrs. Higgens’ cat, the terror of the day,

for the grand old puss was determined that she would not go but stay;

and the damn cat with glaring, daring eyes took daily total command

of all yards, drives, lakes, every acre and inch of all the land;

while we the neighbors of quite dead Mrs. Higgins were caught up in a fear,

afraid we’d likely lose a piece of flesh to the one who had been so dear

to the old lady now laying six feet down within her grave.

Too bad we hadn’t thought how many ankles might we could save

should we had stuffed old Mrs. Higgins’ cat in with her in her lonely grave.

I’m not saying I was at all a mean and evil man

but damn we surely could have come up with a prior plan.

Yet Rollie Rottenstein we thought might well prove to be the savior of the day

and should that be the case I was sure he’d gain favor and be able to forever freely stay.

Add perhaps a snip or two would make him easier in his future play,

but not before he met up with Mrs. Higgins cat that very summer’s day.

Sure t’was a grand sight we seen with that dog standing in the street,

Standin’ straddle in the middle just waiting for the meet.

And when he saw Mrs. Higgins’ cat a grin spread across his firmly set chin

for he was hungry, you see, and his ribs were showing through the thin.

Well that dog planted his feet solid upon the earth, he did,

And we sensed a can of hell was about to lose its bulging lid.

Then came from Rollie a mighty growl deep from within

that brought goose bumps to all our sweaty nervous exposed skin

as the distance sudden lessened between the two

from walking to a trot as old Rollie simply flew,

for there waiting before him stood a potential tasty chew;

and no one or thing before had ever slowed or stopped our Rollie,

and no one present called our life’s mission a wasted follie.

The dog, he set off in a trot for what he was sure would be a tasty treat;

and we waited most anxiously for the pair to up and meet.

Oh, how I recall that day when the world sudden shook

for Mrs. Higgins’ cat had read the dog as though he were a book.

The pair disappeared into a cloud of dust that filled the surrounding air

making it impossible to call the fight as we could not make out the struggling pair.

A minute passed and then five were gone and still the struggle went on and on

the afternoon passed into evening and then night turned into dawn

Until all hisses, growls and barks had settled

For this pair were of certain like kind and not at all un-mettled.

Then with weary expectant eyes to the clouded scene we were then drawn

as the sun its rays crept in as night was turned slowly into dawn;

and as the dust settled so that we could begin to see

what it was that the day held and the pair had come to be.

Then t’was a sudden shock that ran through the waiting crowd

a gasp surprised  went up that was most terrible sad and loud;

for Mrs. Higgens’ cat came strolling slowly into view

and looking around at all who waited let out a gentle mew

while standing firm upon that dusty dirty roadway deck

with Rollie Rottenstein standing just behind with a leash about his neck.               6.10.2012

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THE DEATH OF ST. MARY’S

Copy Write 2011 by Gordon Kuhn

1/1/2011

 

A shadow,

there!

Did not you see it by the stair?

A flute player stood lonely with his lute

and plucked the missing strings with his tongue.

From her lung rang out a wordless song,

while long wondered the camel for its missing hump;

and a lump rose up in St. Mary’s concrete throat

at the decline in worshipers who filled the pews,

and wondered about the fuse the laborer lit,

then realized it was a wrecking company

that did accompany a dynamite team

just as the seam was ripped in one big clap of thunder

and St. Mary suddenly went asunder.

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IN SILENCE I’M ADVISED TO BE
12/25/2010
Copy Write 2010 by Gordon Kuhn

In silence I’m advised to be
by those who somehow worry see
for said it is that I expose the inner self
by words said, written, set free by me
to wander off freed from my mental shelf
to wander on, pause, and choose to stay
in place where I might if willing may
place upon the waiting paper page of time
so empty, pure, until I write the ink traced line
and thoughts spill out through the freshly drawn
while others the wish is for me to be withdrawn
by whom then am I advised and told
that I’m far too open, far too bold
and reveal to all, not in fashion of being droll
a wounded, pain filled, tortured soul
and, so, in silence I’m advised, told, warned to be.

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So morning comes as morning does and I awake and for a moment lie between two worlds…….or is it more than two I wonder. The first thoughts are laced with fog and questions which I don’t easily recall as moments slip away to become minutes moving forward into the day. Thoughts like loosed hummingbirds dart here and there trying to find something sweet to eat. Ah, where is the first cup of coffee at?

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Her Name Was Saucy Miss Merry Fair12/20/2010

Copy Write 2010 Gordon Kuhn

Her name was Saucy Miss Merry Fair

and she rose up proudly from the sea and said she lived there

she told me she was from down Kensington Way

and thought this a new place she might could stay

I told her she needed to brush the sea weed from her hair

though it was very well placed from what I could see

but else others, not me of course, might rudely stare

and would not believe she actually belonged there

among we who common folk were said to be

and she advised she could drop the weed back in the sea

and it would change to children born so long by she

“A good place to plant my feet, though webbed they are you see.”

“Time to move on,” she said, “how about a warm cup of tea?”

I advised of a place down the lane where neighbors went

at odd times of day to sit, sip and eat a bit, and sometimes vent

their feelings of government and prices of this and that and gaze out on the

sea

That suited her, she said, and took my hand and led

and we sat and drank a cup of tea, a with a cookie each was fed

while neighbors gawked at this beauty who had come up to meet me from

the sea

and who chose to sit and dine and laugh alone with me.

Six years ago the lass and I were wed

and then her children came up from the sea

to live with us and share our bread

for in love, by love, and with love they and she

came forth from the dark ocean waters to live and stay

and she and they were from the chilly waters set firmly, finally free.

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New Poem

A new poem came to me this AM.

Best to you, always!
Gordon Kuhn

Author of Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems
Buy or view the book at:
http://www.amazon.com/Widows-Cliff-Other-Poems/dp/1451534493/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1290915007&sr=1-2

OR You can go to Barnes & Noble and order it there.
Simply type in The Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems in the search box and order the book.

MY BLOGS:
Poet in the Rain: https://gkpoems.wordpress.com/
Thoughts: http://gordonwrites.com/
Prince of Dan: http://theprinceofdan.blogspot.com/

Poem – Last Night I Dreamed a Dream that I Cannot Share.doc

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The First Post

This is the first post to Poet in the Rain. It is a sight for poems, poets, and news about poems and poets.

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