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It is a whirlwind in here

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High Winds And Seas And Whitecaps Smashing On Shore Keeps A Cat At Home

Paw,
The cat/kitten,
Black as storm clouds
With one white mitten,
Made no objection
When I kept him in
Today.
I had put him
In his cage,
And took him
To the door,
Which I opened.
But he hissed,
And looked at me
As if to say,
“Are you nuts?”
So I walked to
The Lighthouse
On my own,
Holding for dear life
To the rope secured
Between both houses.
I marvelled at

The height of the waves,
Attempting to tear
The island
Limb from limb.
I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

New Year’s Eve Lets Loose A Dancing Cat For Fun And Entertainment

It is New Year’s Eve
And,
I have devised some entertainment
For those in port.
I have set up
One of my spare
Candle flame reflectors,
And aimed it half way up
The Lighthouse Tower.
With trajectory trickery,
And mathematical wizardry.
And,
Safely distant from the heat,
On a wide platform,
Paw
My cat/kitten
With one white mitten,
Is going to cavort
Between sleight-of-hand
Proffering

Of fish and fowl.
From the docks of the port,
And the decks of the ships,
Folk will see his shape
Leaping hither and yon,
As if he is a
Pouncing lion.
I have food enough,

(And Paw has patience enough),
To prance,
And dance,
For five minutes.
I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

A Cat Learns Of Life From A Storm And Snow

If my cat/kitten,
Black as coal,
With one white mitten,
(I call him Paw)

Was not black as coal,
He’d be lost to me,
And to the ages,
In these drifts of snow
Covering Partridge Island,
After the storm,
From down the coast,

That left us so white.
I kept him in while
It raged,
Which he took to kindly.
But I let him loose,
The next afternoon,
Because a cat/kitten
Got to learn the

Ways of the world.
He took to the huge drifts,
Like a fish to water.
And when he tried to
Chase a rabbit,
I laughed myself silly.
And, (I bet),
So did the rabbit.

(I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report} DE BA. UEL

On The First Day Of Advent, Sister Darling Gives Me A Treat

Sister Darling takes
Her Ministrations
To her far flung flock
Seriously,

And never more so
Than at Festive times.
An outgoing fishing boat
Dropped her off early
At my Lighthouse dock.
And her 

. . . admittedly . . .

Earthy ministrations

Took the place of breakfast.

But she had also
Brought foodstuffs
And
An Advent calendar.
She let me pluck out
The first gift.
A substantial chaw
Of Spruce gum,
Which will last me long.
She also brought
A small bag
Full of some herb,
For my cat/kitten.

Let me tell you,
He was kept right occupied
All day long.

(I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}DE BA. UEL

To Be A Cat And Bat At That

A Brigantine
Hove to,
As it came past
The Lighthouse,
On its way
Into harbour.
A rowboat came to
My small dock,
And,
Deposited a cask
Of Caribbean rum,
Compliments of my cousin,
The ship’s Boatswain.

And it appears

The fame,
Of my cat/kitten,
Black as the rum
With one white mitten,
Is spreading across the seas.
Though perhaps, not
All seven of them.
For there was also,
A ball of twine,
With some loose ends,
That has become
An instant,
And favourite,
Plaything.


(I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}DE BA. UEL

Man of War Leaves Port for the Seven Seas

I am attired

In my navel uniform,

Which I am sometimes

Expected to wear,

In service

To my Monarch.


I represent the might

Of Majesty,

As sole subject,

Yet overlord,

Of the Lighthouse

On Partridge Island


I am to stand at


Attention,

And even salute,

As a Man of War,

All three masts

And 124 cannon,

Sails past from harbour

On its way to sea.


The Captain

Will stand


On the bow


To salute me.


I am going to give

Each owner,

Of every telescope

Trained on me,

A treat,

And

A tale to tell.


I am going to be holding

Paw,

My cat/kitten,

Black as night

With one white mitten,

In his cage,

To let him

Inspect this departing,

Fighting ship.


I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

Gunpowder, Treason, Plot, & A Cat In A Lighthouse

Paw,

The all black cat/kitten,

With one white mitten,

Is having the time


Of his

Young

Life.


We are in the Lighthouse,

On this Guy Fawkes Night,

Searching down the gunpowder

The dastardly villain

Has planted.


This has been part,


Of my traditions

For years.

Straight from

My Father.


Remember Remember


And though I tell Paw,

The cat/kitten,

To run wild

And

Search everywhere,

In truth,

He doesn’t want to

Stray too far

From my side,

Which is fine.

For,

In truth,

The Lighthouse is

A strange

And peculiar

Place.

So he stays near

To the glow of my

Lantern,

As I go through

My ritual.


We are both pleased.


And,

Will both

Have a

Fine Fish Feast,

When Guy Fawkes is

(As he inevitably is)

Brought low.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report

DE BA. UEL

Halloween Approaches Partridge Island and the Dead Are Already Knock Knock Knocking At The Door

Paw, the cat/kitten,

Black as the dark night


With one white mitten,


Is look look looking

Over his shoulder,


To stare,

And stare.


There are hints of


The approaching ghosts,


Preparing their visit


To this world


From the Other,


On All Hallows Eve.

Paw, the cat/kitten,


Sees that they are


Moving ever closer,


And he doesn’t know


Whether to


Welcome them


Or not.


(I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

Music From The Wind / Dancing From The Leaves / And One Crazy Kitten

You can’t take a step,


Man nor beast,


Without a leaf


Hitting you in the face.


Such blow the

Autumn Winds,


In from the sea,


Scurrying across


Partridge Island,


And swirling ’round


The Lighthouse.


Paw the kitten


(Already spooky himself


All black


With one white mitten),


And already spooked


(It seems to me}


By an approaching


Halloween,


Jumps


And twists


And turns


In the air,


All paws off the ground


When leaves hit


Or nearly miss.


Paw the cat


Will sleep well


Tonight.


I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

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