Cat on a Post

“What is that?” The young Alpaca asked

Looking at a creature on the post,

And the others just stared in amazement,

Not wanting to get very close.

“I don’t know” the mother answered,

Whilst stretching her neck out longer,

All ears were pricked and eyes just stared,

At this creature, whose stare was stronger.

“I’m a cat chasing a mouse” ,  it said

“When through this fence it scurried,

And I was unable to follow it,

No matter how much I hurried.

The mouse disappeared into the grass,

And up this post I ran,

Looking far across this field,

At least that was my plan.

And then you interrupted me,

By standing in my way,

Asking each other silly questions,

Whilst I lost sight of my prey”.

The Alpacas’ were stunned at this outburst,

And there was nothing left to do,

But turn around and wander off,

Leaving the cat to stew.

The Lion King

A lion

Is known to be tough,

But cheated by family,

Is certainly rough.

The rough and the tough,

Come together to be,

Simba, the lion cub,

In this touching story.

The loss of his father,

Is devastating,

And the guilt served by Scar

Convinces him,

To leave The Pride Lands,

And a new life begin.

He meets new friends,

Along the way,

Who come under threat,

On this particular day.

Nala, his past love,

Has them in her sight,

But Simba intercepts,

And saves their plight.

In love again, from her he hears,

What Scar has done,

And they decide to return,

To where it had all begun.

He challenges Scar,

With the support of his friends,

In an effort to reclaim Pride Lands,

But Scar does not give in easily,

With the Hyenas he takes his stand.

They fight a battle and Simba wins,

When Scar begs for his life,

And offers to betray the Hyenas,

Who are now in strife.

Simba agrees on the condition that,

Scar leaves Pride Lands forever,

But Scar has one last thrust at him,

Which ends up not being clever.

He survives the fall and stands to meet,

The Hyenas who overheard all,

And Scar thus meets his maker,

Leaving Pride Lands once and for all.

Simba and Nala now return,

Accompanied by their friends,

And reclaim the reign of the kingdom,

Where this story almost ends.

But the real end to this story,

Which makes it more the merry,

Is Simba and Nala sharing their news,

Showing their new cub to the assembly.

Hidden Vegetables

Johnny,

Doesn’t like his greens,

He hates to eat,

Zucchini and beans,

He will not eat,

Brussel sprouts,

Asparagus,

Or sauerkraut.

He doesn’t like,

To eat peas,

Or anything,

That look like trees.

Lettuce and kale,

He will not eat,

And spinach, Bok Choy.

Or silver beet.

His mother,

Almost pulls out hair,

In frustration,

And in despair.

She tries to hide them,

In her cooking,

Soup and lasagne,

When he’s not looking.

The Band

I can hear the band playing,

The sound is very loud,

The drummer hits the cymbal,

And delights the watching crowd.

Sax and cello come in on que,

The drummer beats his drums,

Followed by the trumpet,

They are having lots of fun.

I wish I could play an instrument,

One of any kind,

For music means so much to me,

And I think to all mankind.

When Music Makes a Sound

The times were tense in Austria,

On the cusp of the war,

When the Nazi’s began their invasion,

Changing times forever more.

Those that loved their country,

Refused to cooperate,

And looked at trying to escape,

Controlling their own fate.

The Von Trapps’ were such a family.

Respected in their town,

Who entered a local pageant,

With a plan that was profound.

Singing as the Trapp Family Singers,

They chose the perfect song,

Allowing them to leave the stage,

Each one by one by one.

They all escaped to a waiting car,

And then to a Nunnery,

Where they waited to escape on foot,

Across the mountains they planned to flee.

But the Nazis tried to foil their plan,

And followed them right there,

But the Nuns’ refused to help,

The Trapps’ presence they wouldn’t share.

And whilst the Nazis’ looked for them,

One Nun disabled their car,

Which prevented them from leaving,

Allowing the Von Trapps’ to flee afar.

As the Von Trapps’ climbed the mountain,

Each in single file,

They sang their songs with gusto,

As they embraced their self-exile.

Frosty Photo

I look upon this photo

And ice crystals I can see,

In delicate formation,

They look so pretty.

Of many shapes and sizes,

In intricate display,

A photo of nature’s beauty,

An organised disarray.

My feeling of Rainbow

I want to climb a rainbow,

And see how high I go,

Then slide back down the other side,

Land in the pot of gold.

I want to strum the colours,

Like a base guitar,

Feel the colours wash over me,

And take me to afar.

I want to use the rainbow,

As an artist’s palette,

Mix the colours to create,

A brightly coloured parrot.

But most of all I want to see,

A rainbow across the sky,

Giving hope of finer weather,

As in times gone by.

There are seven colours of the rainbow,

That all come out of one,

It’s white sunlight, through droplets of water,

Behind which shines the sun.

Red is for raspberry, orange for orange,

Yellow for banana, and green is for grass,

Blue is for blue sky, indigo for blackberry,

And then there is violet that sits below, last.

Together they make up the rainbow,

That arches across the sky,

Hoping the worst of the weather is over,

And that we can all try to keep dry.

My Dog

It is a strain,

My dog is lame,

At the Vet again,

He’ll have to remain.

At home waiting,

Contemplating,

Hesitating.

My heart breaking.

Then the call,

That said it all,

Back to playing ball,

Injury was small.

Happy again,

My dog, free of pain,

He can now remain,

On his own terrain.

Toni Newell  

Tiger the Tabby

Tiger was a tabby,

The cat that lived next door,

He’d often roam around our yard,

And show the birds his claw.

And every day, close on five,

His name was called out loud,

But on this day, when he was called,

He, could not be found.

We all chipped in and searched for him,

We all looked high and low,

We looked in drains and gardens,

On fences and below.

We looked at roofs and tree trunks,

And there to our surprise,

We found him in the fork of a tree,

He couldn’t move, we realised.

The neighbour fetched a ladder,

Then a volunteer stepped in,

And climbed right up that ladder,

To try and rescue him.

She reached the very top and saw,

Poor Tiger wedged right in,

She gently tried to lift him out,

With care and nurturing.

On descending, there was applause,

By those who stood below,

They cheered and clapped and sang their praise

For the volunteer, the hero.

They waited for them to come down,

And Tiger loudly meowed,

As the neighbours rushed to take their cat,

The volunteer just bowed.

Toni Newell      29th May, 2019.