The Cat Still Wander Free
The Councillors of the Shire of Sherbrooke of late passed a decree
That in the hours of darkness no cat should wander free
That all cats be kept behind closed door during the hours of dark
And not be left to roam and prowl though woodland and through park.
Domestic cats a threat to nocturnal creatures the Shire legislators say
But cat a bigger threat to wildlife during the hours of day
In daylight hours domestic cat always prowling around
And stalking unsuspecting bird who search for food on ground
Before tackling a brush tail Possum a cat would think twice
He'd end up bruised and battered and that too much a price
He'd rather kill blackbird or robin or defenceless native mouse
Or little wren in garden beside his neighbour's house.
The Councillors of Sherbrooke have got the wrong idea
As cat does most damage by day or so 'twould seem to me
So between the hours of dawn and dark the cat still wander free
To stalk lyrebird who scrape on ground beside the forest tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Flight Delays (Life Poem)
Sympathyless disbelief when I complain again,
Delays are the balance for the glamour of flying.
Nine hours in Sao Paulo while the ATC strike,
Eight hours in Vienna while new wheel flies in,
Seven sins would be justified by this purgatory,
Six times six hours from CBB to DUB last week,
Five hours sweating in Port au Prince plastic chair,
Four hours for rain in Miami seems not so bad,
Three hours in Shannon for bomb threat search,
Two hours sitting in Seattle with mad dash in Kennedy.
One would be happier walking, swimming or driving.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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7 Hours
Today's a sunny day
And there's a lot of time to go with it
For me
I want to celebrate and have fun for 7 hours
So ladies and gentlemen
Make the food
Fill up the drinks
It's going to be a fun 7 hours
I'll bring my poems
Maybe my photos
Perhaps even show the ladies a dance I know
7 hours
And the time is ours
Full of nice memories
Full of good times
Full of new friendships
Full of whatever we want to make of it
These 7 hours
These 7 hours of perhaps stress free and
drama free
These 7 hours to be what we want it to be
poem by Justin Gildow
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Three Hours
Three hours from sundown
Jeremy flies
Hoping to keep
The sun from his eyes
East from the city
And down to the cave
In search of a master
In search of a slave.
Three hours from london
Jacomos free
Taking his woes
Down to the sea
In search of a lifetime
To tell when hes home
In search of a story
Thats never been known.
Three hours from speaking
Everyones flown
Not wanting to be
Seen on their own
Three hours is needed
To leave from them all
Three hours to wonder
And three hours to fall.
Three hours from sundown
Jeremy flies
Hoping to keep
The sun from his eyes
East from the city
And down to the cave
In search of a master
In search of a slave.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letting The Hours Go
the hours run so fast
and you are being left alone
in that room
where you still try to record
an accounting of
the past, as though you are into
a collection case
of those who are indebted to you
when you step out
from the door and close it
behind you
it is already dark and the
street lights
begin to make some islands
along the alleys
there is now a dichotomy between
the hours and your
own pacing
there is no one waiting
and you expect nothing to really love
that truly
let the hours go
they must have other persons in mind
who are still
in sorrow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Coloured Hours
GRAY hours have cities,
Green hours have rhymes
Of hearts grown loving
In old summertimes,
But the white hours have only
A cloud in the sky
And a star, bright and lonely,
To remember them by.
Gold hours have laughter,
Red hours have song
Drawn from lost fountains
Of beauty and wrong.
But the white hours,–O, tender
As rose-flakes they lie,
With youth's fallen splendour
To remember them by.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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September's Brought The Spring
The golden whistler whistles on the gray gum tree
And lyrebird in good mood for mimicry
And magpie piping in the morning gray
And currawong tell rain not far away.
I love the hills of Sherbrooke in the Spring
When wattles bloom and all the free birds sing
The voice of yellow tailed black cockatoo
And spotted dove utter his mating coo.
The rhododendrons flushed with bright pink flowers
And the trees look greener after cool spring showers
September brings with it rich greenery
And nest building birds prepare for family.
Were I a bard born with the gift of rhyme
I'd write a song for Sherbrooke in Springtime
And I'd sing my song that some might wish to hear
Of Sherbrooke in September of the year.
The yellow robin singing in the wind and rain
And the sky turn bright and the sun shine out again
And in Sherbrooke woods the wild and free birds sing
And September's come and brought with it the Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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where did I park my car?
1
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
had a coffee at the center
caught up with some friends
watched a movie
and bought some stuff for home
and now I can’t find my car
though I’ve searched past 10 minutes
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
no, that’s not mine
that’s a Mercedes;
that one’s too shiny;
and maybe it’s this one
- no, mate,
we won’t go any nearer
this car is too clean
mine will look like
it’s not been washed since Noah
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
2
well, yes, help me look out...
it’s an old Nissan
blue faded into white;
no, nobody ‘ll steal that
and the only people
who’d give it a second look
will be the traffic police
who’d wave as if to say:
Pull over, Sir;
let’s have a look at
your rego and front tyres
now, where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
well, damn,
I’m sure it hasn’t moved
it’s not that sort with smart technology
self-park, self-drive or with sensors;
it’s like an old useless dog
completely lost without its master
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
now that we’ve looked
about 30 minutes or more
I’m not sure if this is the right level;
Oh, did I stop at Yellow Level
or Blue or Green or Pink?
was it level 1 or 2 or 3 or 9?
it’s completely out of my mind
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
ah, there it is
that old boneshaker;
thanks mate, for helping me look
You were saying you want a lift –
yes, come - I'll dropp you…no trouble…
yes, it’s just on the way…
Hey…Where you going?
What? Don’t want a lift?
You’d rather walk home?
Hey, what’s wrong with my car?
OK, suit yourself…
at least I found my faithful car…
where did I park my car?
it was Level 5, Yellow Sector
Lot 125
all the while
and that beauty was here each second
an old helpless dog, waiting for its master
poem by Raj Arumugam
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For mothers who must earn, there is indeed no leisure time problem. The long hours of earning are increased by the hours of domestic labor, until no slightest margin for relaxation or change of thought remains.
quote by Katharine Anthony
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four hours of makeup, and then an hour to take it off. It's tiring. I go in, I get picked up at two-thirty in the morning, I get there at three. I wait four hours, go through it, ready to work at seven, work all day long for twelve hours, and get it taken off for an hours, go home and go to sleep, and do the same thing again.
quote by Peter Sarsgaard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's a shame that the only thing a man can do for eight hours a day is work. He can't eat for eight hours; he can't drink for eight hours; he can't make love for eight hours. The only thing a man can do for eight hours is work.
quote by William Faulkner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Time Thief
I feel the hours move too fast
and know that I can't make them last.
I do not cry for loss of them,
but the giver of time I do condemn
and cannot forgive how he takes away
every hour on every day.
I close my eyes to all of this
with the hope that he might miss
a few of the hours that belong to me.
But when I open my eyes I see
that those few hours are also gone
and I must face one more dawn.
And again my condemnation's here.
I cannot forgive this thief I fear.
He's stolen the sight of sunny skies.
He's stolen them right before my eyes.
He's fled with all the music I love.
He'll leave me nothing that I'm made of.
Forgive him? No, never I say.
Condemn him, yes and so I pray.
'Let him feel the loss like me.
Let him suffer the misery
of not enough hours to feel complete
and not enough time for his heart to beat.
Sentence him as he sentenced me.
Take away his hours so I can be
free.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Shorter Week
I worked for fifty hours a week,
And someone said to me,
'Don't be a serf! Throw off your chains,
And show the world you're free!'
So I cut down my working hours
And found, upon the whole,
The leisure time I had to spare
Good for my body's carking care,
And better for my soul.
I worked for forty hours a week,
And someone said to me,
'Release your bonds, you shackled slave!
Show all the world you're free!'
So I reduced my working hours
And found in leisured lull,
The more I sought to play, the more
Amusement had become a bore,
And life was rather dull.
I worked for twenty hours a week,
And someone said to me
'Awake, you mutt! Snap out of it,
And show the world you're free!'
So I cut out my working hours
And found that joy had flit.
Upon black melancholia's brink,
I sometimes used to sit and think
And sometimes merely sit.
I worked for not one hour a week,
And someone said to me,
'You lazy coot! Arise and shine!
You call this being free?'
So I resolved I'd better far
Rejoin the toiling mob.
But when I rose and looked around,
To my intense digust I found
Someone had pinched my job.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Daylight
All of the nights when the light was low and day seemed so far away
Darkness was endless and i kept seeing ghosts turn in shades of grey
I wanted to see things just the way they used to be
Don't want those shadows hanging over me
Daylight, i wanna see daylight
Wanna see daylight that shines all around
Daylight, i wanna see clear blue light
Wanna see daylight that shines all around
Hours and hours in towers on the back road of tragedy
Voices are calling and fingers come on crawling all over me
Then when i sit up and my hands begin to shake
Suddenly there i see the dawn break
Only one thing keeping me sane, oh
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Happened When The Lights Went Out
early that evening
there was a total blackout in the city
for an unknown
cause again, and
this happens not just for that
lonely time
only but for the nth time
when the hours are lonelier
than usual, and
to make use of those dark hours
since we see nothing
more important to do than read,
we spend the hours, and hours
talking,
it is you who is doing most
of the talking, choosing the words,
and arranging them
to perhaps please me, but i was
not there anymore,
i was then, and am mostly,
a wanderer amidst the forest of your
sentences,
and i feel like your are sentencing
me into a listener imprisoned
in those bars of
senseless words, and i
as i once told you, always escape
as a swift bird,
and you as usual do not notice it
when i am already
far away into my own
kind of personal homeland
where you cannot find me
or catch me
naked and innocent like a native,
and i do not hear about you anymore
and when i come back
and take the shape of a man
you are already fast asleep and then
i step silently inside the room
via an open window
slip on the bed wet with your tears
and then i gently sleep beside you
and i cannot sleep that night
as i judge myself guilty of an injustice
which i have inflicted against
love and trust
a la Cupid to
Psyche,
and then i, before my own
sleepy eyes,
blow that stupid candle
away
and then it is so dark
deep into the night i journey
burdened
like one of the Furies
into the
cliffs of Sisyphus.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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24 Hours
24 hours makes one day,
But this day is made up of the light and darkness!
The 12 hours of light is called 'day' and,
The 12 hours of darkness is called 'night';
So learn from this muse to be able to walk in th elight always! !
And many are the evil things being done in darkness.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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He spent hours and hours and hours practising these conjuring tricks. It's just such a curious thing.
quote by Simon Callow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be the best, you need to spend hours and hours and hours running, hitting the speed bag, lifting weights and focusing on training.
quote by Sugar Ray Leonard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You're Gone
(HogarthKellyMosleyRotheryTrewavas)
You're gone. As suddenly as you came to me
Like nightfall followed dawn without a day between
You're gone and suddenly I can't see
I'm in the shadow of you
I'm in the shadow of you
I can see you in my minds rose-tinted eye..
Somewhere you're drifting by
Your heels rolling sparks on the lucky street
While here am I, left behind
Stunned and blind
But I can see you from here
I can see you so clear
You are the light
You are the light
You have the day
I have the night
But we have the early hours together
You're gone, and heaven cries.
A thunderstorm breaks from the northern sky
Chasing you back to the daily grind
You're gone. And where am I?
A haunted life
The ghost of your laughter
The half-empty glass
The half-empty glass
And I wait
'til midnight tolls
Two souls almost touching in the dark
I'll be allright
You are the light
You are the light
You have the day
I have the night
But we have the early hours
We have the early hours
We have the early hours together
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loneliness
Set are the Pleiades; the Moon is down
And midnight dark on high.
The hours, the hours, drift by,
And here I lie,
Alone