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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Scribbles and Scrambles - More Pet Poetry

Why oh why is your tongue in my ear?
At two a.m.?
Why do you need me
When I'm walking down the stairs?
If I call you, you stare
As if I am mute.
Then you turn your back.
But while I sleep, or read
or eat. Or work or try to walk through a room
you bat or purr or meow or pose.
A better name for a cat -- a not? Or a won't?
Feral gave me some three a.m inspiration. I've changed times in the poem -- poetic license and all that.
Is Kim the only one with good holiday memories? I expect a few more. I'm working on mine. It will involve music perchance.
And tomorrow...James Scott Bell - you really won't want to miss his answers...