Bart and the Bear

 Bart, our poodle is a fiery furball,

His barks and antics, something to behold,

His fierce barks keep strangers at bay,

His looks withers even friends who cross his path,

He runs our house, chases birds, squirrels,

And rabbits too all through the yard,

He acts like he is the king of the world...

There came a bear , sauntering to the bird feeder,

Bart's barks were a high notch,

He barked by the back door loud and fierce,

The bear gave a stare and went straight for the bird feeder,

Next he wanted the peaches,

Bart barked some , then withdrew to his bed,

we looked out and said, "we have to bear proof that feeder"

And went about our day as usual,

Soon Fall will be here and then winter,

Soon the bear goes to hibernate in the mountains,

So, here it will be quiet  awhile,

Yet when the bear returns in spring,

What will Bart do?

If the bear decides to stay  on our deck,

Say, for a bit, do we just give it his way?

For the bear, its his land ...

For Bart and us, it's ours.. we'll rest these thoughts until spring,

And navigate it then, for  now the season's celebrations beckon,

Perchance Bart dreams of being the Bear's pet poodle,

Soon spring  too comes  and  no plan in sight yet!

None for king Bart or his subjects,  for it's none too bare... 

Poem by Pc-3  (10/15/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: Bart and the Bear

SPRKS IN CSF: Bart and the Bear:  Bart, our poodle is a fiery furball, His barks and antics, something to behold, His fierce barks keep strangers at bay, His looks withers e...

SPRKS IN CSF: The whispering vines of Fall

SPRKS IN CSF: The whispering vines of Fall:  Beware the whispering vines of Fall, Not the ides of March, The vines, they whisper this fall, Neither the swish of your swords, Nor the be...

The whispering vines of Fall

 Beware the whispering vines of Fall,

Not the ides of March,

The vines, they whisper this fall,

Neither the swish of your swords,

Nor the beasts unleashed scare,

Oh, slimy king your circles fray,

Where the whispering vines sway,

Silent before prying eyes and deaf ears,

The vines whisper , their song  is your peril...

As the fall colors the sky orange,

The vines circle and tightly grasp, an iron grip,

They hold God's grip in their whispers,

We hear the vines whisper, lift our souls,

The whispering vines of fall sway,

This gentle breeze shifts to a storm,

Fall colors the sky orange again at dawn !

Poem by  Pc-3  (10/09/2025)

SPRKS IN CSF: In the Arenas

SPRKS IN CSF: In the Arenas:   Hopes and fears  perhaps rhymes with peace and prayers... May be here in our dystopian universe, they are all the same, There in the cold,...

In the Arenas

 Hopes and fears  perhaps rhymes with peace and prayers...

May be here in our dystopian universe, they are all the same,

There in the cold, lies ethics, limp, deathly ill, the rasp of its last breaths...

we hear the croaking , struggling throat, groans of death;

Bullied by a thug whose gilded crown blinds all,

Blinded by tyranny's scars, our gouged eyes glare,

Sightless we just stumble over ethics,

Into the depths of the abyss,

Hugs death in these Kaos times, here hope fears all  merge,

Mirrors the days in all our souls,

As all stare, the fast cancers consume all,

Thoughts, learning, science, ethics, keel all to their deaths...

As the mindless cheer all at the gladiator games,

Games that the tyrant's stage,

Oh, for oil and grabbed power... despots all play the same games!

Yet all the mindless cheer in the arenas, 

Of our cities and factories, we  are stalked  ,

As the poor are game- fending off the hungry beasts,

Their  hunger to avenge, roaring with cruel glee,

In the arenas, where ethics  lays down weary ,dying...

Poem by Pc-3  (10/04/2025)