I want to laugh
In potions ample
That it should last,
To encourage
Thusly bold,
Fellow beings
Who’ve to learn
Be laughter
Feeds the soul,
And lessens thus
The morose pique
Of anxious matters,
Inciting as a must
The constant lifeline,
Of enduring laughter!
I strain to see
With but one eye,
My impulse
Aim’s to spy,
Or entice
Birds or flies,
Out of the sky…
I effort yet
With a lame eye,
Imposed by mites
On a hellish plight,
That may encroach
On lifeline’s sight
And sure as well
My sense of smell…
Besieged am I
By acute stress,
As I’ve no way
To so express,
Should I go blind
Or loose my scent,
I’ll ne’er again gaze
At a moon that amazed,
Nor sense a morrows’
Night time finds!
ode to Kallista
The silver grey one is the big Kaspar, and the tortoiseshell one is the somewhat smaller female Kallista.
Hard not to love, even when Kaspar deposits his 8.5 kilos on you chest at 5:30 or 6 o’clock in the morning with him snorting in your ear, to tell you it’s time to get up and prove you’re alive .
