Furs and Purrs

Your almond eyes of green

Emeralds in velvet fur

A beauty to be seen

A stroke a tickle and a purr

Tickling whiskers, cold wet nose

Pink scrubber of a tongue

Darting in and out, he knows

The grime cannot stay for long  

Acrobat agility

Measuring every move

Crawling up the oak tree

Bark is rough, moves are smooth

Snugly nestling nose

Love of effervescence

Like corked champagne grows

Adding bubbles to life’s present

Now your cold bowl of water

Floats hair, fine black needles

On an opaque sea, your fur

Is all that is left for me

The Morning After

Dark shadowy fingers

Of a blowing branch behind

The frosty glass door

Tickles the handle, tickles the letterbox

Offering her hand to hold, to comfort

And I sit, still surrounded by your love

Morning sunbeam pools a spotlight

On the silvery white ground

No sound

Then a red robin singing sweetly

Breaks into the void

With its tiny breath, invisible, but alive

And I sit, still surrounded by your love

Matryoshka’s Heart

We no longer share the same air

Or swallow the same stew stirred

With the herb of love

But we shared the same flesh

Your little Matryoshka

Whose heart that you made

Carries you 

Golden Brolly

Again, they come, the couple that like to sit under my cover

Away from direct sunlight, faces look at one another

Dirtying her dress and he has knees of muddy colour

Next month, knowing him, he will come here with someone other

The noises made disturbs me from the tweeting of the birds

Uncouth and loud and declarations, love and other words

Excuse me while I take a sip of Mother Nature’s water

Can trees not drink in peace? Leave me alone, just like you oughta

I long for winter, frozen land is icy on the bottom

The leaves are dead and buried, no golden brolly for you, my son

The white wind further cracks my old un-moisturised figure

I can’t be vain in this season, the silver birch sniggers

An Oak I am, an Oak I’ll be, until they cut me down

The selfish rotters planning homes on my nurturing ground 

I’ll miss the birds, the wind, the pretty sight of other trees
I wish that guy would now get up from his so filthy knees