About Me

May 14, 2012

The Kitten’s Lair

    This ballad was much due to be posted on the blog. Experimenting with writing styles, I must say is fun! Seems like the more simple you keep it, the more of a smile it puts on your face.

Kitten

A call, all that I was waiting for.

Walk to the beach with her.

Dancing with the muddled integrals,

Sleep, my vertical asymptote to the heavens.

 

A call was all that came,

That excited voice, spirited bliss.

Not for the walk, but for a talk.

Or, was that a meow?

 

She’d found a kitten, downstairs.

With the golden ball of fur,

Was she always in love.

Loving her back was the kitten.

 

He cuddled, he scratched.

He shivered and quivered.

Love, cookies and some milk,

Put the squeaky purrs to sleep.

 

Never had she kept a kitten before,

In the laundry basket, hidden.

What if it dirties, I asked.

Paved way to her lovely giggles.

 

The kitten licked,

And it got heftily kissed.

They come once,

Get treated like a king.

 

A week or two, the kitten lived

She thought, or did she not?

A month it must be,

I judged from experience.

 

Of experience I talk,

A million pups and kittens.

Brought home with love,

Only to face my mother’s wrath.

 

Didn’t expect hers to be,

Any different from mine.

Oh, the call that was on,

Had to end. Bye.

 

The meows don’t end here,

For, there she called again.

The twilight talks,

Venus and the moon overlook.

 

Her mom, true to my words,

Didn’t love the sight of fur.

A little more milk,

And the kitten lost its lair.

 

The kids downstairs played,

The tabby nearby preyed.

With her, on her.

Mercy and care, she had.

 

The kitten soon found,

Her body was nothing but,

A wonderland, a playground.

Soft paws and scratches galore.

 

The kitten, an obedient child.

Followed her mother, the girl.

On the way up the stairs,

Twice or thrice.

 

Another call, in delight.

Another meow is what I here,

She loves him, and them all.

I knew by now.

 

I wanted to help,

I wish I could.

Time to let him go,

It inevitably came.

 

The watchman, a kind guy

I wish that he is,

Took him, his home.

Lair, was it regained?

 

The girl felt bad, cried.

I wouldn’t stop her.

For, I million times I have.

A million lost their lairs.

 

~ LeBiggerBang et LaMyth

27 January 2012

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Me, Midas Touch by Raj Kunkolienkar is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at imidastouch.blogspot.com
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