summer_jackel

OK, I am starting a day late this year, but here we are. As in all previous years, I will not promise that any of these will be any good, but I will try to commit some verse daily this month, even if it only is three lines about ducks.

I'm cheating a little bit on the first one; most of it came into my head a couple of weekends ago. It won't leave, though, so here it is.

******

Show Doggerel

Little Coba Cobulon, get your prance and sparkle on
draw up your paws, erase your flaws
and follow me across the lawn.

******
Duck, Road, Color

Breathing in the spring
beneath a sodden sky:
a lone drake stands upon the near-empty road,
flashes up with strong wingbeats,
bright plumage, sharp contrasts
one more shade of shining, vivid green.

Deck the Howls!

( More silly, festive dog pics under the cut. )

Merry merry and all of that.



( That's the pretty one. The others are of the dogs. )

OK, I can't guarantee that this is finished; there may be some word replacements, etc., or maybe I will just pretend it never happened, but I am about to toss it across the room now (so many reasons I don't usually rhyme these things!) so I pronounce it done.



Crocodile Ball

On a clear, warm night in a polished hall
on the shore of Deep Lake is the crocodile ball.

By the light of the moon they slip lithe to the shore;
They swish through the grass and slide onto the floor.

With their sharp teeth so polished and gems on their scales
with rings on their claws and garlanded tails,

caimains and gharials and gators and crocs
step lightly to waltz and the trot of the fox.

Their eyes swirling golden, they want to be seen
their frocks made of velvet, and everywhere sheen

and glintings of ribbon and pearl; it’s the truth
that nothing shone brighter than each polished tooth!

The music skirled silkily over the lake
and drove the sleep from me; though it be a mistake

I could not resist its alarming allure.
Gaping with pleasure and awe, I was sure

that I had to be dreaming, the sight was so fine;
A croc saw and grinned widely, purred “pleasure is mine!”

And before I scarce knew it, as if in a trance,
we whirled, snapped and spun in a crocodile dance.

The rest is quite blurry; you know how time flies
swiftly past in a glittering of tails, claws and eyes

I was so overwhelmed by how fine, I admit;
the wild greeny-gold and the splendor of it

that I found myself loving the claws in my hand
and their broad toothy grins, the wild cries and the swing of the band!

We’re so pleased, the croc said, in that same silky purr;
When I looked all around, saw how many there were

I confess sudden tension. Stepping backwards with care,
I found myself blocked by the large gator there.

Of course it was night and the hour was late,
the dancing was fast and their hunger was great.

“Oh we can’t have you leaving, you simply must stay
for our dinner, and surely you want it this way?

You wouldn’t go now!” Ah, the beast was polite
So polished his scales and so warm was the night

and sharp were his teeth. So he led me back in
to the hall, where I met with each crocodile grin.

On a night when the lakewaters polish each star,
you know crocodillians all, near and far

Will slide from the swamps to their gala soiree
to glide, step and promenade, glitter and play;

And I regret nothing. On that evening, it’s true
things changed a great deal, but still, wouldn’t you

have wanted to see it, so smooth and sublime?
The dance was quite fine and the pleasure was mine.

From the mist on the lake to the lights in the hall
even ghosts love the splendor of crocodile ball!

OK, this post is WAY overdue, but I've been busy.

You will recall that Bliss, Coba and I went backpacking in the Sierras in the last week of September. Our party contained one other member, a tiny plush African wild dog belonging to Kyn. I've never taken a plush into the wilderness, since I hate getting them dirty, but Glyph weathered it well and had fun. She was awfully nice to have along.



( Glyph ascends )

It's 11:59 on Sunday. I've been pedaling for an hour and a half, and it is raining for the first time this season. I always take this as something of a personal holiday, suddenly emotional things are hurting less than they have in 4-5 years, and I'm pretty happy. Miz Kaya, the Best Parrot in the World, is begging me for another spray-bottle bath, but her feathers are still soaked through from the last one.

The collie floats up when I take a break, and I pet him and feel something odd. Bliss Like Chaos, can you explain why you are wearing Mardi Gras beads this morning? There was a party that good last night and you didn't tell me?

There's a journey taken, all in silliness
that involves offering one's coiffed canine love
for exhibition;
They're long-haired. I have horses, haul hay
and so I cleaned the truck this morning.
Still says something for my life
that I had some cleaning to do
because the car was going to get the dogs dirty.


***



This one was almost too easy; I was going to write a few lines about that, and then realized, 'ok, you haven't done a poem today; can you make that a poem?' Maybe all of my entries should be in free verse from now on.

...right, how about not.

Busy as heck, but in a fun way. I'm pedaling a couple of hours, and then it's dog brushing for the rest of the day. I spent a bit over an hour last night pre-grooming Bliss, so I won't have too much to do on him now, and though he's a tall, skinny yearling, he's really lovely all brushed out. This may be his only conformation ring appearance, but we'll at least have fun.

Coba is very excitingly in coat, and his obedience routine has become more assured and confident, so I think he'll be fine in the off-leash heel. His big challenge will be maintaining his sit-stay (not standing up or laying down) and standing still a foot in front of me while the judge touches him. He should be fine in the conf ring...if I manage to actually show him well. So much is how _I_ gait and pace the dog, etc., and I am an amateur.

May your dogs always listen to you, even if they are puppies.
May the tidepools you explore contain octopus.
May raindrops fall gently on your eyelids,
and all your waters seethe swimmingly with trout.

So this morning, I was awoken from lazy drowsiness by the loud quacking of my two girl-ducks (OK, the drakes quack too but only the hens are loud) and the following immediately thereafter, sung by my girlfriend the trained soprano, to the tune of "Oh Danny Boy":


Oh Summer girl
The ducks, the ducks are calling
from coop to coop
and down the Meeker-side
their food is gone
and all the water's muddy
it's you, it's you must go and feed them now

But if you stall
then somebody might help you
but if you stall
then somebody maybe won't
but I must go
and no one else is home
it's you, it's you must go and feed them now


...well, I am awake. ;D (and the Dux fed).