17 Sep The Lark and a Cat

Posted at 17:55h in Folk Stories, Poems by

A match became of a lark and a cat
When breezes ached and leaves fell flat,
Under a garden arch in meadow groomed
The lark dove low and then up — he zoomed!
Claws in paws the cat cryptic-crept …
And on sweeping bows she upward leapt —

Landing quarryless down and again,
And she yowled up to watching heaven:
Why give me tools and no want of skill
To earn my wage of life — to kill?
And you, o lark! I quibble with you,
Nimble and restless in backdrop blue,

Come rest in my jaws as a work most good.
To which the lark did peep Nay I could,
Why hurry when to tarry pleases it all?
Heed not your hunger but my turgid call
First I grace many an ear with a song
Sure to your belly I will soon belong
Need you not rush to end like tocking time.
Nor secure a toil under gusts of rhyme.

But the she-cat rejoined Nay you would,
As I evade the dog for my own good,
From maggot to man we strive and stroke
How fated streams of life God does convoke!
And ‘pon his final dive retorted the lark
Each day our last for already does dark.

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