Aww she sounds like she has everything under control. Nice;))

I love this tribute to the Calico Queen–her confidence, elegance, and sly playfulness leap off the page! She reminds me so much of my tuxedo cat with her gorgeous green eyes — my cat is such a girly girl tho, she leaves the hunting to her big brother, she doesn’t want to get dirty lol. But she rules the house with just as much grace and charm.

I have a male orange tabby who has the mentality of a dog. I’ve had cats all my life, at times, multiples. I love adopting when I can, even the older ones that have a tendency to be overlooked. I don’t believe a house is a home without one – a dog or a cat, or whatever you choose. They all need love, and it seems to me your calico queen has taken over the residence, quite nicely!

Thanks for the nice comment, Kelly. 🙂

Beautifully penned, Tim. Cats are spectacular companions. Mine passed away a few summers back, a year apart. They lived to the age of 20 & 21 respectively. They seen me at my worst and my best. Appreciate you.

Damian

Hi, Relic! I’ve gotten so used to calling you that over the years, haha. I love how this poem captures the chaotic, procrastinating, wandering mind of the creative process. It’s like watching inspiration play hard-to-get while snacks, horror movies, and classical music are your sidekicks. The pacing — week by week, half-week by half-week — perfectly mirrors that slow, frustrating march toward an idea…until the rain shows up, like a cosmic mic drop! Haha. It’s a funny and oddly hopeful meditation on creativity’s mysterious timing.

Powerfully penned, Tim. The life of a writer has peeks and valleys. “I’ve lost my mojo. He ain’t risin.” A reference to the Lizard King?? Probably not, either way I dig the write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

So, Relic, huh? I thought I recognized those keystrokes. Good to see you here, another refugee from that lost cafeteria of broken crockery. Nice write, Tim. It’s like you were looking over my shoulder.

Mother Nature knows what she is doing before a storm.
The air gets still but you can feel it. The presence of something powerful brewing.
This whole piece gave that. I especially loved the stanza about the glass with delicate fingers!
And I love that pic amigo!

Wonderful. Thoroughly vivid with the descriptive lines sewing it all together. We can see it, feel it even. Excellent poem Tim.

Powerfully penned, Tim. Amazing imagery my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

I saw the title and had to check it out. lol
I remember the block heads or was it box heads?
We’ll see if they make an appearance or if they are retired drinking a Mai Tai in Hawaii. Lol

Perhaps their heads are too thick to fit here. LOL.
What an awesome, whimsical calling out to PS. Hopefully he sees this and picks up his slack!

He has been popping in on the site. But you never know he may see this and pop up this week.

Ha! Forgotten about Box Head. I hope PS submits his artwork in here. He gifted me such a piece and it now holds such a poignant place in my world. You do him justice here.

Cleverly penned, Tim. What a tribute to the man himself. Speak, is one of a kind. Hope he sees this. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian