Copy Cat Copy Cat

 

Its Been A Minute, since last we met.

Copy Cat has returned, it appears my mind did a reset.

Ann from SnapEditScrap sketches, I do a copy cat inspired by hers. She uses colored pencils, I paint in Procreate on my iPad. 

Two inchworms baked upon the shore,
Their tiny segments fried and sore.
"This beach is brutal!" one exclaimed,
"My little rear end's getting flamed!"

 Now they are safe within a shady yard,

They drink from puddles, living large,
Where tall grass provides a screen,
And no one turns to sun-baked green.

They found lots of dirt to rest their head,
They found an oil pan oasis instead,
Filled up with rain—a backyard sea,
As perfect as a pool could be.

A wild mottled duck, big and round,
Came waddling up across the ground.
Instead of gulping down a snack,
He gave a friendly, cheerful quack.

He dipped his beak to share the pool,
And helped the inchworms stay quite cool,
By splashing water with his wing,
To shade them from the summer sting.

Now side by side the trio stays,
To spend the sunny garden days,
Two tiny worms, one gentle drake,
Relaxing by an oil pan lake.

Co-authored by MadSnapper and Google AI

Finny the fish saw a face through the glass,

The handsomest dog in the whole puppy class!

He puckered his lips on the aquarium wall,

But Rex just licked glass and saw nothing at all!

Smooch goes the minnow! Slurp goes the hound!

The foggiest love story ever was found!

Two wet little noses, a barrier between,

The cleanest glass kiss that you ever have seen! 

co-authors MadSnapper and Google AI

Poetry Lover or NOT

When the word Poetry came from my teachers mouth in high-school, I ZONED OUT.

Teacher forced me to memorize Double, Double, Toil and Trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bubble...etc etc.... I was livid and terrified to stand and recite it. And truth told, that line is the only thing I remember.

Fast Forward 50 some odd years later, and  in blog land I find a new friend,Gail at the Farm.
Gail writes poems, she actually loves poetry and the writing there of and joins meme's that force her to write a poem by giving words or a photo as the prompt...
Below is a photo prompt from her post, named Time Lost 

Her poem was great and could be read from the bottom or from the top.  I have tried to write poems from prompts, it doesn't happen. I wrote this comment of what the photo made me feel.

all those clocks behind the man, made me think
the clock of Time has brought me to this place in time, Waiting on a bench that is like the graveyard the elephants go to and wait to die. or maybe that bench is a nursing home 

Here is the poem she emailed me. It means the same thing, but is a  poem.

Time moves

As slow as elephants

That plod to their death

Left alone to die

No one left to walk with him

To his graveyard

With nothing left but time.

  Gail Williams

Gail has taught me to understand the poems but not to write them.
Click HERE to see some of her poems...