I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

12 November 2013

The Tiger On My Bed

The tiger on my bed
never sleeps.
His bright, dark eyes
are always watching me, 
and watching the room.

His white whiskers
are thin and frayed,
his stripes have faded, and
his pink nose is rough,
the surface worn away.

When he first arrived
I used to hug him tight.
I took him everywhere.
Now he rests on my pillow
and guards the room all day.

At night 
he lies on a chair.
I have a real cat now
who sleeps with me 
on the bed. 

She purrs loudly.
He says nothing
though his glass eyes stare.
I won't throw him away though,
my old tiger.















Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge, day 8: Inanimate object.
(Have fallen behind a few days, busy teaching Reiki; have to do some fast catching up now!)

4 comments:

  1. Powerful and sad and great! First alive, she dwindles, but not in the narrator's eyes.

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  2. The title draws in the readers....it's wonderful to see how even the inanimate object stirs emotion...beautiful lines...

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