And We're Back! (Kat eulogizes some family pets.)

Poetikat's Blasts From the Past: Reigning cats and dogs (and birds, and fish and rodents) - Part One.

Hey folks! Don't be afraid to post your comments over on the Blasts blog! (And I'd just love it if you decided to sign on and follow me over there too.)

Theme Thursday: “castle”

Fairy Tale

A long, long time ago,

You, were the tall, dark and handsome Prince,

to my Fairy-Princess.

Ruling with an Irish fist,

you fed me on coconut-cakes

and cherry-almond tarts.

You dressed me in frilly finery

and shiny shoes.

We lived in the castle on the crescent

and watched the moons wane

through Palladio’s panes.

Time and again,

I incurred your ire

for my fool-hardiness.

Always, you granted

your pardon—

deluged me

with adornments

and adoration.

Many years had passed,

then Darkness cast its sleepy charm.

Pulled you down

under

Lethe’s deeps, to do you harm.

You lay, in sweet oblivion

under a casket of glass.

I touched you,

but your eyes would not open;

I kissed your hand,

but I could not break

the spell.

Kat Mortensen©2009

*Please visit the Theme Thursday link in my sidebar to see other participants’ offerings.

Reflections on a gloomy day.

Click picture for original source.

Hope

 

November embers—

ashes from my father’s grave.

No. Wait!

He was buried.

It’s merely dust,

fusting up my head.

Clouds (or were they

clods?)

of earth

chucked in

behind him,

but we weren’t there

for that

(neither was he

if you believe

in All Souls).

November first—

I thirst for life,

yet fear the worst.

My own gets closer

to its end

with every leaf

that drops

and every

feather on the ground

signifying…

November exposes

last summer’s roses—

strips them and they’re

g o n e.

I saw a robin

fence-sitting.

It gave me hope

for Spring.

 

Kat Mortensen©2009

Fire burn and cauldron bubble…some animated treats.

A few cartoon memories from my childhood: 

Everybody’s favourite witch: “Witch Hazel”,  has Bugs Bunny for dinner.

 

 

I don't recall ever hearing my father laugh as hard as he did at the headless horseman scene in this one.

 

Happy Halloween folks!

Theme Thursday: “Halloween”

Click pic for Flickr source.

Great Expectations

Kat Morten's Podcast

Great Expectations

All Hallow’s Eve, she was naive,

and he had charm.

Doe-eyed and tall, he held in thrall—

proffered his arm.

She walked beside him, like a bride

in wedding gown,

And when he smirked her strings all jerked—

his puppet-clown.

For party night, she looked a fright,

at her own hand.

Mom’s marriage-dress, her hair a mess—

talc through each strand.

The faded rose of drooping hose

and ragged frill,

she looked the part—the broken heart

from Dickens quill.

He wore no rig, to match the gig—

mask set in place.

Drawing her near, he nipped her ear

and licked her face.

As in those tales of ingenues

who meet their fate,

he knew that now the time had come

for his check-mate.

They stole away, shut out the fray

and found a room.

The steel-trap door, an icy floor

she, with her groom.

There Havisham, for swift wham-bam,

gave up the ghost.

Her nuptial gown, rode up and down—

her virtue lost.

Kat Mortensen©2009