A carved rock stands sentinel.
Wave upon wave of white tips,
sharp and blinding to unprotected eyes
send fingernail sized crabs scraping for darkened protection.
Tangled, green emerald fresh
soothing, enlivening limbs
harbouring free flowing flora
wretched from unsafe shelters, now
minute crustaceans, hidden
among dancing green tentacles,
espy undulating breakers
enveloping bodies in a shroud
lips to skin
relishing the bitter flavour
covered in the turquoise, emerald fresh blanket
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing!
Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried,
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the bong-tree grows;
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
This famous nonsense poem by Edward Lear was first published in 1871.
The story ALWAYS made sense to me.
I never knew that he was raised by someone other than his mother – but I should have felt a kinship with him had I known.
I loved the rolling flow of the poem.
I could taste the honey.
I could smell the money – Five pound was a lot in my childhood.
Oh, and how they loved, enough to sail across the water for a year and a day.
And I saw them – Owl and Pussy standing in the woods as they wed.
Some stories/poems never date.
This is one of them.
And now, if you please, I’d like you to meet a latter day Owl and Pussycat…
How they met…
Fum & Gebra have their own Facebook page.