This dog "hates" cats...can't you tell?Old Mike used to have to punish him for trying to kill them. Either he has learned his lesson or mellowed with old age.
I can remember being a kid, sitting at a hard wooden desk in a classroom over in Fonda, and meeting Kipling for the first time. Still love Kipling, the Maltese Cat being my favorite....though not a poem.... Anyhow, I ended up loving at least some poetry, fashionable as it was to hate it back during those school days.
I especially love this kind of poetry. Don't know what the form is called, having been more interested in the stories in school than in the rules and regulations (haven't changed much I fear.)
But I love those firmly marching poems that pull you right in and bring you along to the end and leave a satisfied smile on your face. Go, read about a ranch Christmas, and smile your own self. (Thanks, Jinglebob)
And have a great day!
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4 comments:
You are spot on, TC. I left this remark:
I want to thank Marianne for leading me over here.
This lovely poem allowed me to take a breath, pause, reflect . . and " . . . Christmas came to mind".
A final thought: Though somber, the picture is perfect. The stark foreground of December . . but still the enshrouding glow . . . perfect.
Your welcome. If anyone enjoys this work, DW has several books avai9lable for a small fee. Let me know and I will post his address for you.
Cathy, JB always has good stuff about ranch life. How I would have loved to have grown up riding and driving horses and working outdoors!
And the words and music that score that life...they have always spoken to me.
JB, wonderful stuff! It would be good if you did.
Beautiful! Just Beautiful!
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