The Lair
Theo snores as her ankle rocks
The old wood chair on the worn down porch.
Softened with jasmine and ivy vine,
The rough pine planks mark the line
Twixt cool, creek breeze
And the warmer inside.
The newest calico,
From an ancient deepwood breed,
Laps sweet cream
From a pan at Theo's feet.
Two wide steps, both slightly askew,
Wander up from the hen pecked yard,
Offer'n some shade and a welcome stool.
Theo's bed is made.
Her chores are done.
There's always coffee on her stove and biscuits in the oven.
Laundry catches sun,
As it flaps gently on the line.
She waits....
She bides her time.
Whispers from the confused and forgetful
Dance with small dusts in the air.
Pleas for answers flip oak leaves -
Theo knows a storm is near.
Why won't this open?
Where is part B?
You sent my luggage where?
It says "made in Pate"!
Check line 3, coding in Greek.
Stand still if you see a bear.
Soon Sweet will arrive
Astride Chuck,
With Sarah 'longside.
Theo sighs and pushes her knees
With her hands as she rises.
She looks at the calico
Chuckles and whispers
"Kitten, you're greedy.
Go take your nap now...
Gots to git me ready."
Then, into her kitchen -
The lair of Enigma -
Theo fades in the shadows
And starts to fry bacon.
YOU ARE READING
Gregory
PoetryWelcome to the Poets Pub July 2019 contest. This month we are creating sidekicks. We would like to Congratulate our July contest winners: 1st Place @ifana8 2nd Place @naomimrshl 3rd Place @lyttlejoe Honorable Mentions @ImperfectPsychotic04 @most_bay
