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St. Albert

Yesterday

Harvest of Years

My Friend

THOUGHTS



Ken's Dream

Breath of Death

Saga of Bandit

My Purpose of Life

SEASONS

TRIBUTE TO MEL GIBSON

THE PHONE CALL

OH LITTLE BIRD

REFLECTION ON CHANGE

The Essence of Christmas

You Asked

Images

Without Hope

Saga of Bandit

A Persian feline. gray and white, constantly groomed feels just right!
Getting out of scrapes, being a tom among toms,
offering strays my plate, when full, off they're gone!
Other critters come and "thump" at the door,
Patiently I stare and wait, until it opens, run and play some more.
Rabbits hopping swiftly in stride, widening their circle and I'm close by!
Challenges of moving, territories to defend,
and distracted by colorful butterflies, fluttering in the wind.

One early morn, what a way to begin, wild dogs are closing in.
With an exerted leap against the window pane, my mistress came-
to my rescue- into torrential rains-a moment to escape.
Ruthless dogs killed the cat up the block, and Tiffany our dog,
now, my mistress is surrounded by the lot, slowly fought them off!
Casually I wandered in, drenched by rain.
I rubbed up against her leg-soothing the strain of those stretched nine-lives
of thirteen years to adjourn.
Last week my organs closed down, and I gasped my last breath.
She wept, and laid me to rest,
where flowers softly grow, and butterflies flow in the wind.


Patricia Palmer
Published:  Star Dust in the morning
            A Journey towards Hope





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Saga of Bandit


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