This is not how poetry practice should go. Poetry practice time should be a time of silence and reflection, with the rest of the household snoozing amicably and peacefully. It ideally begins with Earl Grey tea with a slice of lemon. But here I am playing cat monitor and chief peacekeeper as the fourth member of the pride of small lions gradually ventures out his isolation post-op and vaccinated.
The oldest cat, who is fifteen if she is a day and crotchety, is growling menacingly without moving a muscle. None of them mess with the matriarch. The second in succession tries to speak sense to the formerly feral street fighter and is biffed in return for her efforts. She slides under the sofa and yowls pathetically. I scoop up the glowering third in line of feline succession and am lacerated for my trouble. And not for the first time today. There was a 3am interaction when I took a toilet break and No 4 escaped. No. 3 let out a cry like some ancient Celtic warrior prior to battle. In the end, it was my pygammaed leg that was caught in the line of fire.
So as I type this there is the rhythmic rise and fall to cat yowls in various volume. A little night music it is not.
I only got around to doing the Saturday newspaper crossword last night. Figured I would do a bit of a crossword inspired acrostic poem this morning, taking two clues that intersect and write something. That’s been a challenge this morning. I may need a dose of valerian tincture before this is over.
fCrossword Crosswords
22 Across
To mop up...
Reducing to a used nose wipe,
Or limp tulip,
Useless for all of its hype.
Never go
Courting being cavalier
Ere you get left on your rear.
16 Down
Sea bourn duck,
Common also
On freshwater loughs,
Trounce a few
Eiders with luck.
Rebuked retinue.
Copyright © 2019 Bee Smith. All rights reserved.
Imagine me as the cat in the
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Sojourning Smith 