It was eerie.
Talk About Cringing At Dawn
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCLXX)
Pink tinges grey cloud fluffs with fuschia thence
In lurid notes, as if a hag to scale
Had put on rouge, the mere suggestion stale,
Yet hanging in the balance asking whence,
Til yellow's fire upon the East, intense
And burning warmly, yields thet eye's all hail,
As morning breaks for half a second, hale
Nor but in sight for longer, blushing hence.
We are a Christian nation, traffic fer
This morning fitly low, or is't the cue
Of late night parties which yields me as twere
The road? Home half past six, what romance'd woo
Is now a pot of Barry's, Autumn's poor
Light what I cherish as, LORD, we wait You.
24Aug25a
Certainly not.
Collar or Not, This Will NOT Do
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCLXXI)
Why are they bent on getting out is't? They'll
Climb up the screen and hang out there fr'intents,
My tote to bar their efforts little sense
Nor use at that. My brother puts t'avail
A board in front, but they'll wedge twixt sans bail
The screen and board, my desktop cover thence
What'd bar them til I leave. Fresh air pretense,
Forced air is now all's fare for that detail.
Get up from napping; fold the laundry, fer
The next load needs the dryer; wash dishes, to
Wait on the final pizza baking; stir
Up spinich, soy, banana smoothies through
Brief minutes, adding frozen strawb'rries' cure
For chill; then off to JetBrite. I thank You.
24Aug25b
...I do.
She Sez I Have "House Cats"
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCLXXII)
How Tigger's post is on the blankets thence
Piled up til Winter, Peter's choice t'avail
Him of my brother's first, then MY bed. They'll
Be safe there whilst I go off for intents
To wash the car and grab Panera, whence,
Serve them their canned food, suiting up to scale
For work oernight, and leaving on the trail
To that where day's young still, lost sans defense.
I did not cry oer spilling milk in tour
Today, not once, but twice, yet wherefore too?!
From cows to soy, why can't I pour as twere
Without an acc'dent? O, what shall I do?!
And oh, I gave them their own bowl, is't poor?
They lapped their milk, not ours. LORD, I need You.
24Aug25c
Seriously.
Who'd Give Up Barry's?!
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCLXXIII)
Since I maunt 'scape third shift, shall we derail
Tea drinking, or imbibe and nap fr'intents
Despite the sun and ole caffeine? Come hence,
Put on the kettle and sip Barry's, hale
In all erst cherished, sharing brie t'avail
Twixt me and Tigger, Peter too for sense.
Lie down with but a few bites breakfast, thence
To wake to my alarm by half like's bail.
Wild turkeys scuttle for the woods as twere
Once I'm at werk and passing slowly through,
Whilst oh! is't Bambi runs likewise in tour
For lo, the woods as I pass by? The view
In Autumn's shadows glowing green, bestir
Naught else as LORD, Thy mercies are e'er new.
24Aug25d
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 31st, 2025 10:13
- Comment from author about the poem: And they are loads of fun. Enjoy.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments6
I have had house cats in the past, several over the years each with its own personality. Good write Chic
Alas, I am allergic to cats, but I love to watch their playful videos. They do have personalities of their own, got to wonder what's going on in those furry little heads, they may have us outsmarted. Love your verse on this beautiful Sunday morn!
That opening image…dawn rouged like a hag…really had me, Missy. You make even the sky feel oddly personal, almost unsettling. Then to swing from that to spilt milk and wild turkeys? I love the swing in your sonnets, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Good write, Cheeky. Cats will be cats.
Forsooth, and are all the more irresistible at that. Thank you so very much, Sir.
Cats : If only someone could write a Musical on them .
Enjoyed.
Fine words, as ever, Missy. Nicely done.
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