The Cat Next Door

She found you bulbous eyed in the shed.
Sometimes, ones like you came down the chimney,
or got stuck in wall cavities that echoed
repeated toothless squawks.
But the shed was a new one.
Jolted, wrinkled brow; “Your mother will be upset!” she thought.
The gardening gloves delicately encased you,
placing you under the lavender, berry and thyme.
You could be heard, but not seen. Your mother would find you here.
Imagine her surprise, when elbow deep in fairy liquid
a movement through the window,
on the outstretched lawn, caught her eye.
Waddling and absorbed in noisy adventure
there you were - halfway across the grasses,
a solitary, flustered ball, singing to the sun.
Her startled eyes flickered as fast,
sensing the orange shadow,
watching from the fence, with narrow, green eyed glee.
Her choking yelps came too slow,
as her bubbled mitts fumbled on door handles,
and crashing into the garden,
her lungs gasped protests,
just as your melodies became lost,
amongst the swoop of efficient paws.
She sat and wept blackened tears,
for the mother who hadn’t found you
and cursing the cat next door.

The Lieutenant

Chair legs squawked
across the tiled floor, as
Dad jack in boxed nimbly
to his feet, spine reaching
keenly to the sun and height
exaggerated by scarecrow hair.
His hand snapped to his temple, fingers glued
and thumb at ninety, grazing his chin.

“At your attention Lieutenant!”

Grandad’s mouth tugged wide, forming

two rosy apples and a deep, slurping, chuckle
reluctantly escaping from his middle.
Ducking coyly, he pushed the
lunch time air away with
his huge, workers hands; Don’t be daft!
Dad relaxed his eagle chest, whilst watching
his Father’s pride, hop-scotch
between his delicate almond eyes.
My owl glasses snapped up,
peeping over the book
at Dad’s pig tail pulling of
Lieutenant Grandad.
A belated war promotion.
A war, that meant I lived
and breathed; My teenage tin heart
may have even smiled.
Lapping orange barley water, I inhaled
the oven sausages, and my blinking saucers
returned, to the words on the page.