With Workmen Here
The cats have flown, I know not where.
They’ve chosen to remain aloof.
They don’t await me on the stair.
The cats have flown, I know not where.
Not one to steal my favorite chair.
I do not hear them on the roof.
The cats have flown, I know not where.
They’ve chosen to remain aloof.
The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to write a triolet. A triolet is an eight-line poem. All the lines are in iambic tetrameter (for a total of eight syllables per line), and the first, fourth, and seventh lines are identical, as are the second and final lines. This means that the poem begins and ends with the same couplet. Beyond this, there is a tight rhyme scheme (helped along by the repetition of lines) ABaAabAB.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Happy special God days, Just getting back online after a bad storm.
Mine disappear too, and I worry if it is at night, my yard is a wild place with all kinds of danger, They have free run outside during the day, and have a hideyhole down under my hot tub. Last night they were playing “King of the Mountian”, during a thunder storm and Tami was keeping them off my bed, where they wanted to take refuge. Why do they think that my stomach is a good CATapult base, leaving tiny little red spots as they take off.
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Happy Easter to you, Sam.
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This is good! Love the flow of the poem
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Poor kitties — they know not to trust the strangers in the house!
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They were actually outside the house, but working in the kitty domaine. Garage and front garden.
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Good grief!
Sent from my iPad
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Don’t have a heart attack, Betty. They were all outside..more than 6 feet away.
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