Wilkie The Cat Western

September 11, 2020 at 10:54 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Humour, Poetry, western) (, , , , , , , )

Announcer: The ghost of Orson Welles is now here to give you the introduction to the Wilkie the Cat western.

Welles (appears holding a spectral glass of red wine): Thank you Mr. Announcer. Wilkie the cat is a well known feline thespian and stage director best known for holding the record for the most number of plays
that closed after a perfomance of only one night on Broadway.
Now with the advent of the Chinese Communist Party Wuhan virus which the Ethiopian Communist head of the World Health Organization the non-medical Doctor Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus insists be called the Covid-19 virus, the lights are shut down all over Broadway and not just on Wilkie’s lights out plays.
Thus Wilkie with the love of his life Mitzie (a femme fatale Parisienne cat from Paris) has decided to go into filmmaking. And Wilkie is now making a Western where social distancing will be practiced.
The western now begins in the form of a poem:

Wilkie the Cat was out on the desert trail riding his horse
In a land where there was no Radio Shack or store called The Source
He came to a sign
posted on a cactus’ behind
that said Town Straight Ahead
He rode by a cowboy who looked to be dead
for his skull and his bones were all bleached white
and the fat vulture’s jeans seem to be fitting quite tight

Into the town Wilkie the Cat rode
And parked his horse alongside a fine looking toad
He decided to enter the saloon for a cold one
And entered looking like a son of a gun

The cat Dangerous Dan McGraw was up at the bar
Counting all his pennies from an old glass jar
Meanwhile on the saloon stage was Mitzie the star
singing about her home town of Paris a city quite far

Wilkie the Cat ordered a large glass of milk
And gazed at Mitzie’s legs in nylons of silk
Hey, Dangerous Dan shouted with a threatening glare
Stop looking at my girlfriend’s underwear

Mitzie turned and looked at the handsome catwhiskers stranger
And thought Wilkie must be one heck of a lost Texas ranger
She gave him a wink
which added to the stink
in Dangerous Dan’s countenance most foul
which seemed to be accentuated by the hooting of an owl

Step up in the street for a showdown
Dangerous Dan shouted with a huge downward frown
Wilkie said, I’ll be back after dealing with this clown

Into the street they went
With their holsters quite bent
And they stood face to face
After having walked many a pace

“Draw!” Cried the town crier
As he blew himself with a hair dryer
Pencil and sketch paper came out of opposing holsters
And each hand moved quickly like fast acting roller coasters

Dangerous Dan drew a stick man with a trash can
While Mitzie was on saloon steps fanning herself with a fan
Wilkie drew the Mona Lisa kicking Edvard Munch’s figure making him scream
While Dangerous Dan’s stick man came apart at the seam

My hero! Mitzie the Parisienne gave Wilkie the Cat a kiss
As Dangerous Dan retreated to an outhouse in search of bliss

Wlkie’s sketch was hung in the Wild West Saloon
The subject of an unrecorded Kenny Rogers tune
Wilkie The Cat and Mitzie rode off into the sunset
While the overweight vulture looked for new clothes to let.

-A Wilkie The Cat
narrative poem
written by Christopher
Friday September 11th
2020.

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The Duck Called Samuel Puddlington At The Wax Museum

September 6, 2020 at 10:18 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

There was a Saint Bernard drinking a barrel flask of doubling gin
This side of the town of Duddlington
When he was approached by the duck called Samuel Puddlington

“Good sir,” said the duck as he raised his hat
Which scared off an approaching ravenous cat
“I’m looking for the wax museum in town,
Am I on the right path? Or am I out of bound?”

Said the big furry giant, “Go two blocks yonder and make a left
Like the present Communist Pope of faith bereft,
There you will find the town’s wax museum
With washrooms closed so outside you’ll be peein’. ”

So Samuel Puddlington followed the big dog’s directions
And passed by the store Big Al’s Furniture Selections
There across the street was the wax museum
And following the dog’s advice, outside did his peein’.

He paid his entrance fee and entered the space
which was filled with men and women of varied time and place
There was Marie Antoinette who lost her head
and Robespierre whose Reign of Terror was dread
Until at Guillotine himself, he made his own bed

There was Cleopatra the Queen of The Nile
And Jekyll trying to hide Hyde in his nail file
And meeting his end on the banks of the Thames was Jack the Ripper
Who was swallowed by a heroic giant fish named Flipper

“That definitely explains why they never found Jack!”
Said Sam as he pulled a feather out of his back
Down the hall were comic book characters Richie Rich and Sad Sack
Plus Wolfman Larry Talbot leading the wolves in the pack

In contemporary times
As he jotted down rhymes
were Donald Trump with his silly looking toupee
And Joe Biden whose mind was lost on the way
While in the background, Stalin’s and Mao’s ghosts were at play.

At the end of the hall Lincoln sat in his Ford Theatre seat looking sad
For the play title author’s American cousin had gone mad
Neo-Nazi and Confederate vampire battled Bolshevik and Maoist
And meditating on the sidelines was Buddhist and Taoist

Lincoln’s last words heard by Mary Todd were
“We will visit the Holy Land and see those places
hallowed by the footsteps of the Savior”
like an empty tomb that once marked where a grave were
“There is no city on Earth I so much desire to see as Jerusalem”
Site of where Isaac was saved by the blood of the ram
And the world’s humanity was saved by the blood of the Lamb.

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday September 6th
2020.

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Morrigan In Cornwall

May 21, 2020 at 10:50 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Morrigan In Cornwall

Along the cliffs she walked 
While a raven flew by
Morrigan the Irish Celtic goddess of war 
Beneath where she walked was the surging tide 
watery grave of many a sailor that died 
Behind her was wood of ancient fallen tree
Cast over these cliffs in storm that shattered tranquility 

These were the shores of Cornwall wild 
where wild desolate moors and cliffs of smugglers’ coves beguiled 
Not far from here was the Arthurian legend born
A brief ray of hope in a land forlorn 

Far far north of here were the mists of Avalon
Where the Arthurian sun set after Arthur was gone 
Now this land along with the world was pandemic bound 
So here far from eerie silence of death was bird cry and raging surf sound 

Like many immortals from ancient pantheons Morrigan returned to walk the earth 
when guns of August 1914 heralded a bloody rebirth 
A century of war 
and blood galore
Fascism, Nazism and Communism 
A three headed cobra with deadly fangs it bore 
Never far from human hearts the poison surged to the planet’s very core 

And now Mother Earth itself was filled with hate
A virus arose of deadly destiny and most fatal of fate 
Floods and cyclones now arose in the midst of May 
Were earthquakes now on the way neath skies so gray?

And war itself may not be far behind
That fiery red horse so insidiously unkind
Ares was still stomping his feet 
waiting for Morrigan to pick up the beat

-A poem and vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Thursday May 21st
2020.

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The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter

May 6, 2020 at 11:23 pm (Arts, Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, International Intrigue, Literature, Mystery, News, Poetry, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter


“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.

A day began like any other for the Inspector
Yet no ordinary day 
These are no ordinary times
Covid-19 pandemic in world.

2 days ago police in Beijing
arrested a professor 
Chen Zhaozhi 
Former professor at the Beijing University of Science and Technology 
for calling Covid-19 
The Chinese Communist Party Virus

But Beijing’s arrest did not concern the French police detective 
What concerned the Paris police detective was a matter that concerned
The Paris Grand Orient Lodge
For British MP Renfield R. Renfield
had sent a confidential report today 
to a French and European politician
The Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI
The leader of the French Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party 

French President Macron had ordered surveillance of the Kraken’s
emails and text messages
And today Renfield had sent the Kraken 
a confidential report 
which was said to be from Five Eyes
The joint intelligence service of the U.S., Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom
The report claimed that the Covid-19 virus
Was indeed a virus that had accidentally escaped from the Wuhan Institute of Virology

At an emergency meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge
Isis, Osiris and Horus 
demanded to know 
whether the Renfield report 
was an actual copy of a Five Eyes 
Intelligence Report 
or whether the whole report was a 
piece of Renfieldian disinformation
designed to prevent Emmanuel Macron 
from ordering take out deliveries of Chinese food in Paris

A person that the Paris Police Inspector 
thought might know
was Marmalade Montague
a baker and a man 
from whom the Kraken bought 
his croissant rolls and Chinese hot steamed buns 

The Paris inspector himself used to buy his cinnamon buns from Marmalade Montague
Montague had recently been thrown out of his bakery 
for lack of payment of rent
due to decline in business 
during the Paris Covid-19 lockdown 
However the inspector decided to visit Montague’s apartment 
Perhaps the baker still lived there
As the building’s landlord had died 
from the Covid-19 virus and his estate was still up in the air

The Inspector entered the apartment
As he passed by the kitchen, he noticed hot cinnamon buns lying on the counter
So the inspector stopped and ate one
He ended up eating all 6 dozen.

The Inspector received a text message on his smart phone 
saying that Marmalade Montague kept poison in his bathroom medicine cabinet.
He went to check out the medicine cabinet 
The bathroom door was still open 
And that’s when the Inspector noticed Marmalade Montague’s lovely daughter Irene
sitting in a chair 
in a corner of the living room 

“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.

“I was told your father kept poison in his medicine cabinet,” the inspector replied.
“He did but it’s no longer there,” Irene told him.
“Where is it?” The inspector asked.
“I added it to my dad’s recipe for his famous cinnamon buns that I left on the kitchen counter,” Irene answered.

The Inspector never did show up to that evening’s non-social distancing meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge.
A copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s short story Murders In The Rue Morgue was sent to the meeting
with a notation on the page 
before the title page 
that this was where the Inspector was to be found.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday May 6th
2020.

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Marmalade Montague: Birth of A Legend

April 21, 2020 at 10:04 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Folklore, Humour, News, Poetry, Science-Fiction, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Marmalade Montague: Birth of A Legend

In a bakery in Paris 
were posters of the mummy Kharis
Who appeared in 1940s mummy movies 
“Cause Imhotep wasn’t of the jazz Swing era groovies”

The bakery was owned by Marmalade Montague 
At the end of the street or in French “la rue”

Marmalade was an eccentric gent 
And because of the Covid-19 lockdown couldn’t pay the rent 
So into the gutter he was thrown
Getting up, he made a moan 

Inside Marmalade something snapped
opening up a genius untapped 
So into the Paris catacombs he descended 
and ran past ancient pipes all upended 
When he emerged again 
he carried a hen
and wore a silver wig
while his lips munched upon a fig

He was dressed from head to toe in Louis XIV era attire
So it was a good thing that his pants weren’t on fire 
He proclaimed to empty streets 
devoid of all and no words of greets
“I am Marmalade Montague court scientist to the Court of Louis Quatorze”
“So I say to you, Paris, open your doors”

But no doors opened and Marmalade Montague went back to the catacombs 
A world of poor reception for many smart phones 
For Marmalade Montague had gone mad
If he had any friends, they might have felt sad 
But as it was Marmalade had gone from good to bad.

And on this April day a legend was born 
In a world that was by a virus torn
No Sacrifice of the Mass was being said 
Masons hoped to make of Notre Dame a temple of lead
And in Rome, the ex-Vicar of Christ was flaming Bolshevik red 

Marmalade Montague had ceased to be a baker 
In his mind he had become a Louis Quatorze court alchemist faker 
And the world would never again be the same
Although the mainstream media would continue to be lame.

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 21st 2020.

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Reblog of The Sun Dog That Ate A Hot Dog: A Poem

April 20, 2020 at 10:41 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Humour, Poetry) (, )

A humourous poem I wrote 5 years ago today.

Dracul Van Helsing

The Sun Dog That Ate A Hot Dog: A Poem

Cornelius was leading a dog’s life
because he was free of kids and wife
He also happened to be a dog
one not mistaken for a bump on a log
a huge Saint Bernard
who escaped his master’s yard
and then headed off to the beach
lucky for him within reach.

What brought him to this date with destiny
aside from the outdoor trees looking thirsty
was listening to the spiel of a TV documentary
that spoke in language not elementary
“A sun dog is an atmospheric phenomenon that creates bright spots of light in the sky”
oh to listen to such drivel Corn thought he would die
“often on a luminous ring or halo on either side of the sun”
that does it, Corn thought, he’d really have to run
out the door he went
past the little pup…

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Return To Field of Dreams

April 8, 2020 at 11:11 pm (Avatar Speaks, Entertainment, Fantasy, Film, Inspiration, Literature, Movies, News, Poetry) (, )

Return To Field of Dreams

Marcus Shimbiro had a dream
When as an 8-year-old boy 
he left his native Kenya
For the U.S.
He wanted to become a baseball player someday 
He did excel at sports and particularly at baseball 
In high school, he was hitting home runs 
The same way he downed ice cream cones
with a vengeance 

But then came that fateful day 
He fell off his neighbour’s roof 
While helping him paint it
And broke his arm and his leg 

His arm and leg eventually healed of course 
But he was not the same player ever again
He could no longer run
Or hit a home run.

Angry and bitter a few weeks before graduation
He borrowed a friend’s car and headed for Iowa
Why Iowa?
Because it was the home state of the Field of Dreams
That famous 1989 sports fantasy movie with Kevin Costner and James Earl Jones
About the Iowa corn farmer who plows part of his corn field 
To build a baseball field
A field on which Shoeless Joe Jackson 
And 7 other famous 1919 Chicago Black Sox players play

On that field in which Shoeless Joe and 7 others played
Was a player named Archibald “Moonlight” Graham
Who played one game for the New York Giants in 1905 
but never had a turn at bat
Corn farmer Ray Kinsella (Costner) 
and author/writer Terrence Mann (Jones) drive to Minnesota 
Where they learn that Graham was a physician who had died years earlier
During a late night walk, Ray finds himself transported back to 1972
Where he encounters the elderly Graham (Burt Lancaster) who says he left baseball for a satisfying medical career
During the drive back to Iowa,
Ray picks up a young hitchhiker who introduces himself as Archie Graham
and says he wants to be a baseball player 
Eventually, Graham gets the chance to play baseball with Shoeless Joe and other baseball greats in the Field of Dreams
But at a critical point in the game, Graham leaves the field of dreams 
To administer emergency medical aid 

Graham makes his choice 
To be a doctor after all.

And now Marcus Shimbiro torn with rage at having his dreams dashed 
Was trying to find this Field of Dreams of film-lore
To play baseball 
Or at least find out what he was to do with his life 

It was nighttime 
and as he drove by a corn field
He was shocked to see baseball players playing ball in the field 
He pulled in
And sat with the other spectators 
And watched the greats of baseball play the game 
Shoeless Joe Jackson, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio and many others

He was shocked to discover Dr. Archibald Graham sitting next to him 
offering him a hot dog and a coke
“Too bad about your fall, Marcus,” Graham remarked as he ate his own hot dog.
“It is,” Marcus frowned, “it’s not as if I could be a doctor like you not having baseball to fall back on.”
“Who says you can’t be a doctor?” Graham looked at him.
“I don’t have the marks or the aptitude for it,” Marcus answered.
“But you are good at observation and analysis and above all, perseverance, you may not get flying colours right away but with your observation and analysis and perseverance, you might spot something others have missed and that might make all the difference in the world someday,” Dr. Graham noted, “Ever hear the fable of the tortoise and the hare? The tortoise won the race in the end.”
“But that’s just a fable and a fairy tale,” Marcus pointed out, “That doesn’t happen in the real world. Most of the time, it’s the hare that wins and not the tortoise.”
“Most of the time that’s true, Marcus,” Graham agreed, “But often it’s at the most critical junctions in the world and in history that the tortoise wins the race. And at such times, the hare is usually not a foe but a friend. And it usually turns out to be one race where the hare was happy to see the tortoise win.”

Marcus looked at Graham.

He wasn’t quite sure what Graham meant by those words but somehow deep down inside himself, he felt they were important.

“So, do you think I should go into medicine?” Marcus asked.
“I do, Marcus, I do,” the elderly doctor patted him on the shoulder.

And seconds later, Dr. Graham, the players, the spectators and the baseball field were gone.

And all that was left…

… Was an empty corn field.

Marcus Shimbiro went into science and into medicine.
He didn’t always get the best marks.
But he studied hard and learned from his mistakes.
And developed a profound sense of analysis and insight.
He didn’t think he was good enough to treat patients but he went into research.
Using his memory and his insight and analysis in that line of work.

And then one day in the year 2020, 
analyzing data and keeping track of things he and his numerous colleagues all over the world were doing,
Dr. Marcus Shimbiro discovered…

…. the vaccine for the Covid-19 Coronavirus.

We can all dream, can’t we?

And hope… is the knowledge that sometimes dreams can become reality.

-A narrative poem written by Christopher
Wednesday April 8th 2020.

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Reblog of Ghost Ship: The Flying Dutchman Sails On and On

March 5, 2020 at 10:25 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic poem, Gothic romance, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

A supernatural narrative poem and vampire novel chapter I wrote over a year and 3 months ago:

Dracul Van Helsing

On a moonlit night the sky’s spotlight
casts its rays down on tonight’s performer
a sailing ship rising out of the mist
in a globe theatre where sea and sky do meet
From underneath the water Poseidon’s hand
seems to rise from below the depths
lifting the old Dutchman like a pearl of great price
as an offering and a gift to Diana’s lantern in the night sky

Oh ship of mighty oak and sturdy deck and towering masts
what a price thou hast paid
for having for a master one Captain Hendrick Van der Decken
He who would make league and sup with the Devil
to have the fastest ship that would sail to the East Indies and back

And so there at the Cape of Good Hope
ship, master and crew would lose all hope
as Captain Hendrick stood on deck at the wheel
and cursed the wind…

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Frosty Snowman and Teddy Bear

December 15, 2019 at 10:58 pm (Blogroll, Celebrities, Children's Story, Christmas, Comedy, Humour, Poetry) (, , , , , , , )

Frosty Snowman and Teddy Bear

Amadeus Emanon had been invited to sing an original song for the Christmas concert at Saint Genevieve’s Church which he attended.

“Do you know what he’s going to sing?” Angelique Dumont asked Amadeus’ friend Renfield R. Renfield as they sat in the pews.

“No, I don’t,” Renfield replied.

Amadeus began his introduction to the song, “When I’ve been out walking in my neighbourhood in the evening for the past couple of weeks to look at the Christmas lights, one of the houses I’ve noticed has a sparkling Frosty the Snowman lit up with some sparkling snow flakes. Next to Frosty is a teddy bear that’s carrying a large nicely wrapped Christmas present. It too is lit up. So I’ve written a song about Frosty Snowman and Teddy Bear.”

Amadeus began his song,

“Frosty Snowman, Frosty Snowman,
he is cooler than a ceiling fan,
he’s made of snow
from head to toe 
and his carrot nose 
has that certain glow.

With buttons for eyes
that hypnotize 
his charcoal mouth has never tasted fries 
He wears a scarf and several school ties 
He smokes a pipe under moonlit skies.

As for Teddy, he’s always ready 
to help you bear the unbearable 
And though you think his Christmas sweater is unwearable 
He wears it just the same
His excuse may be lame
And his pic won’t adorn a frame 
But being unique is his game.

He holds a gift nicely wrapped
He looks so fresh having recently napped 
He waves hello
With places to go
He’ll wave good-bye
But please don’t cry 
He will be back 
carrying Santa’s sack.

Frosty Snowman, Teddy Bear
As you see, they’ve got real flair 
Come Christmas Eve, you’ll see they care
And please hang your stockings by the chimney somewhere
And please don’t mock Santa’s extra large suit he’ll wear
For he ate too much Mrs. Claus’ cookies on a dare.

-A song, poem and vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Sunday December 15th
2019.

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Sherry and The Unicorn

September 15, 2019 at 10:55 pm (Commentary, Folklore, History, Inspiration, Life, love, magic, Mythology, Nature, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural) (, , )

Sherry and The Unicorn

The golden colours of autumn
Shone brightly around the hills and trees
As Sherry set out from her beautiful rustic old farmstead and grounds

Autumn was her favourite time of year she reflected 
As a cool autumn breeze blew gently through her dark hair

Sherry loved to go on evening walks 
Sometimes alone
Or with her dog 
Or one of her children 

Tonight she was alone 
Alone to contemplate 
And silently communicate with both God and Nature
Which was one of her favourite past times 
Contemplating and communicating with both God and Nature

She set out on the path
That would take her along the river
And by the woods

In her eyes both peace and sadness
Peace from communicating with God and nature 
Sadness from the night her nearly 3 year old daughter died from pneumonia 
In her arms 
On the night when the worst March snowstorm of the century hit Western Europe 
And ambulances were unable to get through the snow drifts 
To reach the farm stead 
And rush the girl to hospital

Sherry gave the impression of one who had lived a thousand lives
For her eyes seemed to reflect the wisdom of one who had

She had been born in the Malaysian province of Sarawak
On the island of Borneo
Through her veins flowed the blood of the Iban 
Who were the famed Head Hunters of Borneo
Whose exploits and ferocity 
Were the stuff of folk lore 
But were now a gentle and loving people 
Since the light of Christ had been brought to them

Also the blood of the Malay flowed through her veins
The people who gave Malaysia its name

On her father’s side she had both Chinese and Japanese ancestry 
For her paternal grandfather and paternal grandmother had a Romeo and Juliet style love story
But one with a happy ending

Her grandfather was Japanese 
Having been born into a noble Japanese Samurai family 
Of one of the many Samurai clans that existed throughout Japan
And still existed prior to Gen. MacArthur’s governorship of the country in the post-World War II years

Now those mighty Samurai clans existed only in history books and ancestral family stories 
And of course Hollywood and Japanese films 

But her grandfather a noble Samurai knight 
Had fallen in love with a Chinese woman
In a time period when the Samurai clans had fallen under the sway of Tojo
And an extreme militaristic form of Shintoism 
Whose Japanese master race theories about Japanese racial superiority among Asians
Were matching Hitler’s German racial superiority theories about 
German racial superiority 
Among the peoples of Europe 

So it would not do for a Japanese samurai knight 
To fall in love with a Chinese woman
And worse still as far as his family and clan 
were concerned-
He wanted to marry her!

Keep her as a kept woman if you must 
His immediate male family members told him
But do not, under any circumstances, marry her.

But this noble Samurai knight was truly noble by nature 
And not noble in name only.
He married the woman he loved-
A woman of China!

The result was the the pronouncement of a Japanese Samurai clan’s equivalent 
Of an Iranian ayatollah’s fatwa-
A death edict for both the Samurai 
And his bride!

The couple fled as far away from the reach of the Samurai clans as they could get
To the island of Borneo!

And many years later Sherry was born
The granddaughter of these star-crossed lovers

Sherry was teased as a child
Because the village because of the darkness of her eyes 
Thought her the reincarnation 
Of the River serpent woman
Who haunted her village and family folklore
A great great great grandmother several generations back in her Iban family tree 
Who had a human body for the top part 
But a serpent body for the bottom part of her body

It was said the River serpent woman 
had extremely dark eyes
And Sherry had the darkest eyes of any female currently living in her family

But that was Sherry’s past
And the sights of autumn and deer
And rabbits and squirrels was Sherry’s present

The unicorn sat down in the clearing of the woods
A magical and enchanting creature 
In an age where the only magic and enchanting were done by dark beings
And therefore magical enchanting creatures of God were rarely seen

Of course the Unicorn being an essentially shy creature preferred it this way
Being able to walk the woods and hills freely without being gaped at by other creatures
Particularly those creatures with 2 arms and 2 legs and ten fingers and 10 toes who seemed to be particularly fond of gaping 
Particularly those who carried those annoying little objects in their hands
And were always emitting flashes of light at themselves 
Particularly as they stood alongside other creatures 

The unicorn looked up 
And then paused
For one of those creatures 
He was just thinking about
Was standing on the other side of the River 
And looking at him.

The unicorn thought about turning to run
He turned its gaze back to the creature
And the creature did something odd for this type of creature 
Instead of getting closer to get a better look at him
The creature sat down on the banks of the River 
And just looked 

Not an annoying look either 
Just a contemplative look 
It was not eying the Unicorn either for dinner or emitting a flash 
From an object in its hand 
Just a gentle look 
A look that seemed to acknowledge 
The Unicorn as a fellow subject 
Rather than an object to be simply gaped at
For the sake of gaping 

The creature on the other side of the River then smiled at the Unicorn
That was it!
A simple smile
It seemed to be a kind smile 
The Unicorn thought
Not a nasty or self-absorbed smile
That too often seemed to accompany the countenance
Of creatures like these

For some reason the Unicorn felt inclined to cross the River 
On the other bank now 
As the Unicorn stood 
He noticed the creature with the kind smile 
Had still not made any movement towards it-
The Unicorn.

The Unicorn approached and bowed its head and horn within inches of the creature with the kind smile 
The creature with the kind smile gently patted his head and horn 
And smiled some more.
The Unicorn gave the creature its own kind smile 
And walked back across the River and then into the woods from whence it came.

When she returned home, some of her children called out to Sherry,
“Did you have a good walk, Mom?”.

“Yes, I did,” Sherry nodded as she took off her coat, “A very good walk.”

“Did you see anything?” The children asked.

“Yes,” Sherry smiled, “I saw some deer. And some rabbits and a squirrel.”

Sherry put her finger to her lips and mused aloud, “And let’s see. What else did I see?”.

Then she thought some more and then smiled, “Oh yes. And I saw a Unicorn.”

“Oh, Mom!” The children giggled and laughed.

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday September 15th
2019.

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