Thursday, April 22, 2021

picture + form = Seymour (See-more) the Cat

(i)*National Poetry Month 2021

To celebrate I am sharing a picture and poetic form - everyday in April!

1 April: Lizard Toe

2 April: Open Wide

3 April: Who Am I?

4 April: Cone-y Island Dog

5 April: Happy Birthday, Colleen!

6 April: Watermark Moon

7 April: GOTCHA!

8 April: Snow Kidding

9 April: I 'der' to Learn German

10 April: Labyrinth Enlightenment

11 April: Hoverbird

12 April: Lucky Ducky

13 April: Stone Face

14 April: Let's Dance

15 April: Optimism

16 April: Seek and Ye Shall Find

17 April: Unstable Connection

18 April: Two Tired Together

19 April:  Böögg

20 April: Britney

21 April: RIP Troll-like Shakespearean Character

22 April 2021picture + form: Seymour (See-more) the Cat

 












a

blind

cat

darts

eagerly

forward -

galumphing

happily

into

jean-clad

knees

loudly

mewing,

nuzzling

on

passersby

quaking (with)

rapture

seeking

tenderness (from)

unseen

visitors

with

exposed

yearning (and)

zealousness

©2021, Bridget Magee. All Rights Reserved.

picture: our neighborhood (blind) cat we have dubbed Seymour (See-more)

poetic form: abecedarian poetry

  • a poem constrained by the alphabet
  • each line starts with a successive letter of the alphabet
  • can be a single word (mostly in my case)
  • or phrases

3 comments:

  1. Oh, I know this kind of tabby. We had an "adopted" one ie she adopted us. She had grown up at a campground near Pinehurst NC and she stowed away in our pop-up camper unbeknownst to us. We played golf then drove a ways and I was suspicious. I told my husband I had a sense that we hadn't seen the cat as we were driving out....she was hiding in a clothing drawer. Had made no messes for many hours, we fed her and got her what she needed asap, headed north on 95, snuck her into our overnight campground in the pouring rain in Maryland where the Park Ranger took pity on us and helped us get situated in our campsite while I tried to hide the cat..... and lived a long time with us and our other beloved furbaby cat who accepted her nicely. We named her Pinecone. She was the most loving little girl. And she knew how to get attention and love by giving it. Not to mention she was a klutz. So your poem surely resonated for me. I wish Seymour many happy days and love.

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    Replies
    1. Aw, Pinecone sounds like a sweet stowaway, Janet Clare! I love that you shared her story. :)

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    2. Thanks, Bridget. I think I could make something of this story. We loved her. And her big "brother."
      Janet

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