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The Fox…

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She was a crafty creature
Shy and full of quick wit
I watched her across the meadow
Wishing I could be like her just a bit
Beautiful red hair and shiny bright eyes
She danced through the grass graceful and swift
I watched as she hunted her prey unaware
Then she stopped, held still, her whiskers sunlit
In a flash she leaped high up in the air
and for moment seemed suspended up there
Then down with a thump she landed so quick
And her lunch she gobbled up with a nip and a snick

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Day 30 of National Poetry Month

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

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I thought I could be like a steady freight train
Faithfully following rails already lain
Straight and true no decisions to be made
Full stream ahead nothing new to be laid
No one told me that life is full of curves
That it’s more than speed and steady nerves
The crossroads and switches along your track
Constantly require a sharp mental attack
My wheels turn, propelled forward by time
Through valleys, tunnels and steep hills to climb
Though the tracks are lain and I’m set on my course
It’s the directions I chose not that give me remorse
So, mind those switches and their so many choices
And listen to your heart, your mind, your trusted voices
They will lead you to interesting places without fail
Go full throttle and fear not a possible derail
For if you do find yourself leaping off that track
Fear not, life will help you find your way back

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Day 29 of National Poetry Month

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

Caught…
It was
them against us
and us against them
The Red malevolence
A cold war new dance
Secrets and war heads
Double cross and you’re dead
Reagan playing cowboy debonair
Mikhail G. dancing with his bear
All whispers, whispers of the end
99 changes floating mid air
Red balloons no longer there
Traitors trespass on U.S. soil
Newsmen spin sweet tart turmoil
Dirty secrets so dearly fought
Lover’s lies cleverly caught
We win whatever the cost
Patriot’s love forever lost
It was us against them
and them against
us
finally
caught

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Day 28 of National Poetry Month  –  Love Lost

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

Big Stick…

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I went to the playground with an effing big stick
I planned to hit Joey, but he brought a brick
John brought a razor
And Terrance a taser
Officer Dunn brought a gun and it ended damn quick

.

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Day 26 of National Poetry Month  –  The Enemy

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

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..

“Know yourself!” my mother always said
And I try to go where she led
I listen with care
To all I hear there
To the voices that scream in my head

..

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Day 25 of National Poetry Month  –  Being Close
Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

My Old Truck…

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..

Rusty lay by a field of corn
Sightless eyes cracked
Left behind
Weed entwined
Field mice ransacked

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His upholstery foam unpacked
Windshield pitted and lined
Paint peeling
Hinges squealing
Wheeless, tireless, resigned

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Once he was the friend of mankind
Now vines are concealing
A sight forlorn
No one to mourn
Time forever stealing

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Gone are his days of freewheeling
No voice in his horn
Rust attacked
Insect packed
Seeded and slowly reborn

..

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Day 24 of National Poetry Month  –  A Roundabout Poem

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

The Hunter…

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The hunter engaged and ready for the chase
The hunter engaged and ready for the chase
A twitching tiger hidden inside a dreaming
A twitching tiger hidden inside a dreaming
Dreaming inside a tiger, twitching for a chase
The hidden engaged and ready the hunter
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A quiver rumble, a demand and a comfort
A quiver rumble, a demand and a comfort
Holds one tight in slumber nose to tail
Holds one tight in slumber nose to tail
A slumber in demand holds comfort tight
One nose a quiver and a tail to rumble
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Of mice and men who are lost to frightening eyes
Of mice and men who are lost to frightening eyes
Birds of emerald locked in broken flight
Birds of emerald locked in broken flight
Of emerald eyes locked, and of birds in flight lost
Broken, frightening to men who are mice
.
One emerald broken holds in slumber men
Ready to comfort, a demand eyes engaged
Of mice and birds and to the hunter of the chase
A hidden nose and tail a quiver in twitching flight
A frightening rumble for who are lost
Locked tight inside a dreaming tiger

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Day 23 of National Poetry Month  –  A Paradelle

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017