I’ve not been able to write much this month. I won’t bore you with explanations; suffice it to say I’m a bit down and at such times things spiral. Anyway, here’s a poem about trying to write poems.
Poems and cats, alas, cannot be coaxed.
They come not at your will but at their own.
To attract either, you must find a way
To show you have dismissed them from your mind.They come, not at your will but at their own.
The trick is to have other tasks on hand
To show you have dismissed them from your mind
Since they are curious and contrary.The trick is to have other tasks on hand
(Paint the wall; bake a cake; dig the garden);
Since they are curious and contrary
They come when it is least convenient.Paint the wall, bake a cake, dig the garden…
Poems and cats, alas, cannot be coaxed
They come when it is least convenient.
Would you wish either to be otherwise?Poems and cats, alas, cannot be coaxed.
But when they come – such sinuous delight –
Would you wish either to be otherwise,
A lesser creature, summoned on demand?
Folksong and Fantasy 
Dog days of summer with the nights just starting to draw in. Or the sluggishness of book sales. Or just a run of bad luck. There’s different triggers for everyone and we don’t always see what’s getting us down. It will pass.
True enough. Nothing lasts forever, fortunately.
Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
Reblogged this on Jane Dougherty Writes and commented:
Cats, poetry and pantoum.
This one must have been very determined to be noticed.
I ignored it for ages. Eventually it wound itself around my ankles and let me write it down.
Typical feline poem behaviour 🙂