The grove, 27a

Sunday

"What shall we do today?"

If reason were not enough to remain outside
And let the call of the wild
Dictate our weekend activities
The expression on her face
Said we will be joining them
Not would or could or maybe.

The cat stole its way from
The void, that endless repetitive space which
Existed when we never could agree;
When the hunter gatherer required more than
An interest rate for barter and exchange;
When the science of numerology
Meant more than a new car every three years.

And besides we didn't need a new sofa
Or fridge, or freezer, video, DVD or Telly.

"What about the archers?"
The blowpipe's dart fell on stony ground
Until the isolated thud of the letter box
And the loud protestations from the cyclist
Interrupted this reveille.

The cat, unable to resist the impasse
began to play with the car sponge
And bucket.

"In future, please keep that out of the bedroom".

Language

"Penny for them".

I repeated the question
But the words fell like flakes of snow
Upon the spring blossom
Of his Curacao thoughts.

My paws barely singe the white carpet
My pied-piper bell lost in the weekday ambience
Unable to break his trance-like state.

Perhaps he is dead, stupid and dead
For sitting outside on a day like today
Weather to the bone
Heedless of the weatherman's warnings.

"Penny for them".

Dead, dead, dead
And his wife will not return for another three hours.

But then I notice a tear rolling down his marble face
A subdued monstrous anger
Brimming, belligerent, biennial
A contusion of the skin of the earth
Erupting then spiralling to rapturous depth.

Perhaps she isn't coming back after all.

And then another, and another, another
Throwing himself against the wall
Self-recriminations
Then effects of electrocution
The piercing scream
Definitive, direct, dulled by
Heavy footsteps entering through the garden gate.

I run towards the wife distracting
Her attentions whilst he prepares.

"How was the dentist dear?"

Hothouse

These new hothouse flowers are finally
Showing their mettle
Behind glass
Magnified heat
Sometimes a steam bath
Fit for a naked king
Until clothes reveal themselves.
Skin on or off the shoulder
The density of the colours
Tropical
Reds
Some dragons breathing fire
Into an otherwise dormant space.
I experiment now and again
Just to prevent boredom
By producing hybrids
Clones
My brain unaware of my activities
Until I read the
Notes I left for myself
Perhaps to prevent him
from finding out my secret
little experiment.

"What're you up to?"

I could have said
Installing technology
Upgrading the new
But the credit isn't mine
Until he reads the statement.

"Nothing"

Knowing cat diverted his attentions
To buy me time
My tasks yet remained
A tap away from completion
But somehow I knew
These robots
Would not treat the plants
As individuals.

The Orchard

The orchard is replete with rotting apples
Hanging by tentative threads from
The sinewy branches of young trees.
Caressed by the carnival of autumnal leaves
Old wasp eaten flesh, speckling white moulds
Covering the thin browning sun scorched skin;
Putrid smells of decaying flesh wafted airborne.

The neighbour's cat plays three-legged football
A victim of a car chase until trophy implodes,
Wet paws tracking the just swept garden path
The giant's dominoes left for jack.

The neighbours raised cries of anger

"that dam cat's been next door again"

heard over our speechless tea-time,
all eyes fixated on early news elevating
the putrefied corpse to eclectic stardom.

Tiny sounds of desperate scratching
On our back door fifteen minutes later

"Someone wants to defect".

Sideshows

"There's a circus in town, shall we go?"

Circus? The sideshow was only meant
To be here for one week
The council only giving consent
If there were proper facilities.
But due to popular demand
It was now in its fourth.

I said goodbye to the three-legged cat
For some unknown reason.

The curiosities under the candy stripe canopy
Looked ill protected against the summer sky
The barber shop quartet with the
Bearded lady as a lead vocal
A postmodern approach
To an ancient art.
The beard was probably false.
I remained unconvinced, until, that is,
The pickled room,
exhibits of nature's tricks to evolve the species.
Void of Disney characters
in large glass storage jars.
Inside
A cat with two heads complete
A shrunken elephant with three trunks
A hydra with snake like hair
An angel with tethered wings

A dwarf in a tuxedo ushered us
Into an exhibit called avatar.
The tent was empty.

Romanies always have a way of
Taking money from the unsuspecting.

Alarm Bells

"8.10's just rumbled past"

Cat leapt to judge's seat
Mewing contempt
As semi-naked owners
Fired remotes
To silence electronic symphony

Wife hypothesised
Living near an airport
Must increase
The rate of birth

"Cheap?"

As wedding ring piped to sea

"Insured wasn't it?"

Accusing over length silence
Whilst thinking of a plan
Some questions should never be answered

Bemused by opened talc
Cat paws trailed
An assurgent activism
Direct on target
Without a splash

Sneeze
Garden in summer beauty
Wife never before
Refusing to distance herself
From plumber
Here within the hour
But only just

"No trouble with the local busses then?"

Ring arrived on finger
?45 plus VAT later

Whistling plumber
Afterwards against the prop
Soothing wife
Overhearing alarm bells
I turn car alarm to on

Closer

"I want a child"

9.10 strikes unusually on time

There's a Stranger at the Door.

"Don't answer it"

Yeah sometimes I hear voices too
But there's someone at the door
A tramp with electricity on his mind
Or plumbers mate?
When playing guard dog
Whilst they are out to party
The least I expect is to curl
In front of a burning spot
Instead of suffering gladly
An identity crisis

"Now who can that be at this hour?"

Some assumption
To get something for nothing
I mean a complete stranger
Admitted into your house
To use the loo?
Us little creatures flap

"Take the finger off the pulse
Give someone some blood back"

Us cats
Are known for many miracles
But this handle is too
Out of reach
And humans yet haven't invented
An electronic paw peddle
For unlocking and opening doors
Unlike our tails
Video intercom wouldn't go amiss
But have you heard a human
Mimicking cat speak!

"Use a bush like the rest of us"

Garden Design

It was not for aesthetic reasons
That blinding goldfish
Afflicting them with use of gnarled walking sticks
So that they became subservient to their
Waterborne existence
put me off installing garden lights.

Cat, displeased at my act of sabotage
To it's military manoeuvres
Circled from afar my every move
Keen distant green eyes watching
From its labyrinthine virtue
Watching for a sign of weakness in my strategy
Waiting to satirise my remedial actions
Willing me to a point of conflict
Where the choice between a safety net
Was not in question.

"How about solar panelled ones?
They can always grow legs".

I had perhaps read more than him
On intricacies of garden design.
And besides, creatures of night
Were not a part of the plan.

Two weeks later and autumn undulating
Death of ideas was on cards -
If not at least on ice until I could
Devise a better design.

Cat sensed defeat, distance halved.
Maybe in spring we would meet in middle.

Visitors

Patio has become our favourite place
A place where we have our set of green plastic furniture
Surrounded by rare bouquet of garden smells.
I suppose a proper designer would have placed
The compost heap somewhere else.

"Those visitors have been again".
It was a game of fox and geese.

Shaken from my Sunday morning snooze
All traces bar decaying matter
Decorate crazed paving
Prime suspect nowhere to be seen.

"E-mail your father, he'll advise".

It took half an hour from his laptop from Rome.
Cryptic - surfers against sewage. Coia.
Cat remained as dumbfounded as I.

Following Sunday "visitors".

I spent day sunbathing in attic
Pot pourri on overdrive
Contemplating tactics.

Jerusalem - is this where civilisation started?

So much for family network
Extended or otherwise.

I moved compost heap
Wishing I had washed
Before I took up sentry duty from the roof window.

My wife smelt trail.

"Do you still sleep walk?"

Castles

Meditating in garden on
Blossom of oak, broom and meadow sweet
And fairest maiden and graceful to man
Leaded glass deer complete
I wondered if summer heat-wave
Would finish my castle
When wife, flustered, heart beating arythmically
Shouted from kitchen window.

"Shark, great white shark".

There wasn't a ripple on the pond.

"Where?"
"On the telly, quickly".

Out of breath, news had finished.
"Recorded?"

Silence.
"I'll catch repeat later".

Perhaps we should take a winter holiday this year.