Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Leslie Catherine Taylor,

my furry feline child,

will be my child forever,

half-wild, all-cat, half-mild.

+++++

She has joined the pantheon

of great cats I have known–

Jean-Luc, Harry, Charlemagne,

Caesar, and Duncan; done

+++++

are their lives on Earth yet they

remain my furry kinfolk;

those feline monarchs do reign

in my heart; death can’t revoke

+++++

their status as cat children

in my mind.  This tuxedo cat,

with her determination

to leave feral ways at

+++++

the altar of the past, has

chosen the better part.

And the black on her nose, paws’

pads, and her fur is art-

+++++

ful.  Her nose is pink and black,

her fur coat distinguished,

her manner no sweetness lacks;

she’s all I could have wished.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

SEPTEMBER 29, 2014 COMMON ERA

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Below:  Leslie, September 30, 2014

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Above:  The Original Text

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

AUTHOR’S COMMENT:

I looked up at the sky tonight and thought of “islands of night sky.”  So I wrote the prompt down and let it develop into a concise form.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 11, 2013 COMMON ERA

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Islands of night sky

populate the ocean of clouds

above my head

on a cold night.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 11, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  Chalfont Drive, Athens, Georgia, December 8, 2013

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On a cold, wet, and gray day,

after having attended church and

consumed the body and blood of Christ,

there did commence, I am glad to say,

a quiet, studious time, one easy to stand,

but indoors, which, I do surmise,

+++++

was proper, given the weather.

It was a time to study and to grade,

as well as to make family history

inquiries.  These quiet behaviors

near lamps were for today made,

given the outdoor cold, wet, gray misery.

+++++

It was an indoor kind of day

on which to do little–and that

at a leisurely pace–and to consume

caffeine and well-lit to stay,

for such weather affects me bad-

ly; outside felt like doom.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 8, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  The Beginning of the Draft of This Poem

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On a December morning,

I pull into the parking lot

of an auto parts store,

in search of ice scrapers.

+++++

Inevitable is my noticing,

next to that spot,

where, for a month in 2010, I did score

high school graduation papers.

+++++

It was a brief employment fling,

something which I got

to supplement my teaching pay, for

I thought I’d like to grade more papers.

+++++

Instead, I wound up learning

that the part-time job did not

satisfy me, and even bothered me sore-

ly; the task I came to curse.

+++++

It seems that my scoring

proved too strict.  I got

no invitation for an encore,

for my standards I did not reverse.

+++++

That ended three years and a month

ago, and I am still in town.

When I was a child, seldom did I remain

anywhere longer than three years,

+++++

so my tenure in Athens doth stunneth

me; I smile, not frown.

Moving so often was a great pain,

one which engendered terrible fears

+++++

within me.  My blessings of stability runneth

over; I welcome familiar sights and sounds

from three or more years past.  The main

thing is that they are around here.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 3, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  Chalfont Drive, Athens-Clarke County, December 3, 2013

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On a late afternoon

in early December,

rain falls, uttering

“pitter, patter,”

+++++

hoping, perhaps, that I will swoon

and not, as I collect the mail, shiver,

in the wet and the temperatures cooling,

then return home, water splatter-

+++++

ing until, quite soon,

my home I re-enter,

mail delivering

into dry shelter.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 3, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  Part of the Second Draft of the Poem

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A tree in Americus woods grows upward

then back to the ground, forming an arch

of wood and bark unbroken–not severed–

through which one might even march.

+++++

Why did the tree grow this way?

It is a good question, I propose.

Pondering such things, I do say,

regarding how Mother Nature goes,

+++++

is a helpful spiritual exercise,

for to look around and pay attention–

really to open one’s eyes–

is to notice what God has done.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

NOVEMBER 29, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  The Second Draft of the Poem

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Bird seed and deer corn–

quite a feast for neighborhood wildlife–

birds, squirrels, and deer–

who gather in a backyard in the morn

and the afternoon with hunger rife.

Yet of humans they have a fear

proper for creatures wild born;

it probably preserves their life

elsewhere and just continues here.

Their presence I will not scorn,

for it proves soothing amid strife

caused by someone near.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

NOVEMBER 28, 2013 COMMON ERA