Telling tales, of walking in wild places, of painting, of sleeping in warm places and of mice and other things....
Monday, May 28, 2007
Poems
Pixie: She is off to London again soon. That poetry book she coloured in is on a "shortlist", whatever that is , for some prize.
Elmo:Do you think it will be mice.
Pixie: What?
Elmo: Do you think it will be mice? The prize? Lots of them?
Maurice: You should go too Pixie. You helped Her paint it. I remember how pleased She was the day you helped with The Flower Fed Buffaloes. So pleased She nearly cried. Looked much better with those blue paw prints over it.
Pixie: Her favorite colour, that blue. French Ultramarine. We should all go. We had to put up with a lot when She was doing that book. And we helped to find the poems. All those long nights spent pawing over pages of poetry.
Maurice: I caught her a beautiful vole today, brought it to her warm and full of life. Was She pleased? No. She just took it somewhere and let it go. Now there was a prize!
Wowie, look at that wonderful painting! I can see the little pawprints too. Pixie, you are a good artist. Good luck to your Mommie, I think she deserves a prize.
ReplyDeletePaws well and truely crossed here for a favourable outcome. A brace of mice, a vole or three, await the returning competitor regardless, or so it seems. A triumphant homecoming is thus ensured I'd say; your homeward path will be stewn with offerings from your most discerning admirers....
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