JACARANDA TREE
Crooked or Squiggly
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Emerging: For Sunday Stills
Now and Then
Now and Then
Once upon a time when wizardry was at its height,
some brides had a big surprise on their wedding night.
The guy they met one muggy day while walking by the bog,
might transform from handsome prince back into a frog.
They were naive to fall for any guy who came along,
for dangerous fabrications could be purchased for a song,
but with no wizard of their own, how were they to know?
There were frogs disguised at princes wherever girls might go.
I’ve told this story many times, but to no avail.
I simply can’t get modern girls to listen to my tale.
They can’t believe this selfsame thing can still happen to them.
Absurd to think that frogs turn into princes just to woo.them.
But heed well my warning, young women ripe for wedding.
Men will do most anything to implement their bedding.
They’re on their best behavior until you are their wife,
but changes they’ve enacted may well not be for life.
Prompts today are wedding, fabrication, dangerous, sorcery and muggy. Image by David Clode on Unsplash.
What do you think?
Is it time for a new bed for Zoe? This is a photo taken today:
And this is a photo taken a couple of months ago in the same bed:
Look how tiny she was compared to my hand.
But, here is a photo of Frida when she first came to live with me:
She looks pretty tiny too, and this is the size she ended up being:
This is what Forgottenman said to me when I jokingly asked him if he thought I should invest in a larger bed: “She’ll need one eventually when you realize her grandfather was a St Bernard. Maybe get her a bigger bed now and put them side by side. Let Zoe decide.”
As you can see in the photo above, Frida and Diego were the same size. Now see this photo of Diego and Zoe together so you can see how large a very small dog (such as Frida was when she was the size of Zoe) can become:
And Zoe and Diego and Morrie’s walking buddy, Oscar. Finally, she gets to go along.
Moon Doggies at Zero Gravity : Wordle 551
Moon Doggies at Zero Gravity
If you were going to the moon how would you train a pup
if every time he used the box, his efforts floated up?
Would you relish an eternity of pets leaving a trail
embellishing the ceiling every time they raised their tail?
Every time a planet went flashing swiftly by,
you’d miss the spectacle of it. I’ll tip you off just why.
You’d be a pet detective with your private eye
checking for doggie caca that might be floating by.
We’ve all heard of Moondoggies, but they’re a different kind.
To date all moon explorers have left their dogs behind.
Prompts this week for the Sunday Whirl Wordle 551 are: pet eternity boxflash detective check relish planets embellish moon tip. Image by John Baker on Unsplash.
7 A.M.
Waking up Mom
7 A.M.
Their rebuke is most benign.
Cats yowl protest. The dogs all whine.
As outside dogs slip into gear,
Zoe wakes up and bites my ear.
Their stomachs are a timetable
that I will meet if I am able.
I drag myself out of my bed.
If only I could sleep instead!
The hour that I hit the hay
I fear was not so far away.
Three hours of sleep or perhaps four
were all I had. Surely, not more.
Just as I thought to jump sleep’s hurdle
I remembered, “Daily Wordle!”
Grabbed computer, filled every square,
weeding out vowels my only care.
Wordle in five or four or three?
I cannot sleep until I see.
But later, morning comes too soon
as animals begin their croon.
I move to kitchen to feed cats,
open the door, put bowls on mats,
fill with kibble and with wet
catfood, and they still their fret.
Move to back door, feed each dog
different portions, mind in fog.
Zoe inside, big dogs out,
fends off pilfering and pout.
What I gain in remuneration
is their ceasing excitation.
Whines replaced by scraping beat
of metal dishes on concrete,
clicking jaw and lapping tongue
as cats and dogs both old and young
enjoy results of their design.
Then, back to bed as they all dine!
Prompt words today are concrete, remuneration, design, rebuke and timetable.
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Fuchsia: Happy May Day, 2022: FOTD
Fauna Fashion
Fauna Fashion
Fox in sox and cats in spats.
Dogs in clogs and rats in hats.
When pigs are on sabbatical,
they’re rather acrobatical,
so they depend on spandex suits
as well as stretchy rubber boots
to make sure they don’t skid and fall
when they’re performing in the mall.
In urban settings, it’s a blessing
that there’s more reason to be dressing
formally. Of course that means
a negative on cut-off jeans.
Cool cats are not satisfied
until they have been spatified,
and sequined tops and silken slacks
are de rigueur, as are scoop backs.
But, perchance, have you been guessing
the one bird not fond of dressing?
(His response you’ll find less quirky
when you hear that it’s the turkey.)
Prompts today are fox, sabbatical, negative, urban and satisfied. All illustrations are free images from the internet.
Pet Peeve
From a chair
Pet Peeve
My children’s new pet terrapin
retreats into his lair again,
anxious to don his disguise
away from queues of curious eyes.
No password does their pet provide
allowing them to see inside
the house he carries on his back,
and so they do not have the knack
to see what all he keeps in there
within his snuggly turtle lair.
He takes in neither guests nor renters.
Not one smarmy salesman enters.
Thus he’s reached the pinnacle
of being curt and cynical,
for we all know very well,
you can’t live life within a shell.
Perhaps we’ll take the turtle back
to trade for pet with purr or quack
that we can walk around the block,
or one that we can teach to talk—
a parrot or a tiny pup,
who when food spills, will lick it up,
who does not own his own chalet
and so is always up for play!
We’ll never again have to stare
into a turtle’s private lair.
We’ve learned our lesson very well.
Eschew the pet who wears a shell.
Prompts today are smarmy, pinnacle, terrapin, queue and password.
Misnamed
Misnamed
I admit my name seems to lack a certain beauty.
I’ll never be an eponym. Who wants a town named Judy?
It’s clear that my name never makes it into poet talk.
No unfortunate child will be the chip off my old block.
Interlaced with second names —Agatha or Jeanette,
still that silly first name is as basic as you get.
The reception that it gets in lists is surely less than fine.
Somehow I always end up being sent to last in line.
It’s not correct to grumble over names, but all the same,
why give a perfect child such a clearly imperfect name?
Prompts today are interlace, correct, reception, eponym and chip.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 