DOES CURIOSITY ALWAYS KILL THE CAT?

1 Curiosity

DOES CURIOSITY ALWAYS KILL THE CAT?

My heart pumps fear through my veins,

bringing me anguish and pains.

Why must I be the curious one?

The one who can’t let the deed be done.

I must follow the noises to the basement,

where something is making an awful statement.

A voice called to me from my rumpled bed.

The sound echoed endlessly in my head.

I descend the stairs to the darkness below.

The noises combine to form a loud bellow.

A hiss hits my ear as claws rake my arm.

​My silly cat thinks I mean him some harm.

I offer soothing words but he wants to flee

just as the door shuts and locks behind me.

The light bulb goes out leaving me in the dark.

Do I now hear a dog’s whimper and shrill bark?

Chills taunt me as I go down the dark stairs,

following the whimpering and stray hairs.

Feathers float in front of me.

I don’t know what this can be.

I step on something squishy and soft.

I find a light and hold it aloft.

I lift my foot and the tail retreats

to the chair where it has hidden treats.

With the bright lantern held high,

I search for the source of a sigh.

My neighbor sits with her panting pals

of the furry sort in guys and gals.

“Am I also welcome to the party?”

I ask the pig-tailed girl, laughing hearty.

She replies, “Of course, you are, my dear neighbor,”

A point she refuses to belabor.

I join the circle on the floor,

as the cats and dogs eat some more.

Cake and cookies for all the guests,

even ones who have been great pests.

My black cat joins in with tail held high,

sniffing at the desserts and brown pie.

At least this story has a happy ending.

No one wants another tale to be pending.

DID I DO THAT?

DID I DO THAT?

An ordinary day.
When I went out to play.
Into the cold snow I went.
And I refuse to repent.

It was so quiet.
Before the riot.
A lot of screaming.
With people teaming.

I will leave now.
And take my bow.
Before I am seen.
I’m leaving the scene.

A FLEETING MEMORY

Those precious words,

“Mommy, pick me up.”

Who hasn’t heard them?

The young voice.

The little squeak of pleasure

once you bend down.

The happy little face

gazing up at you.

Remember it.

Enjoy it.

Savor it.

For soon it will only

be a fleeting memory.

THE DEAD ARE COMING!

 
 

THE DEAD ARE COMING!

THE DEAD ARE COMING!

Time to come out and play.

The streets will never be safe

again for humans.

Night is the best time for our games.

For The Dead love to party.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

 
 
 
 

Hi!

I’m a bat and I live

in Oasis, Florida.

In a cave with other bats.

Some of my brethren are

mean and kill people.

Some are sweet like me

and love people.

The Dead have their own bats.

Bats with furry bodies and human faces.

I’m afraid of those and so should you be.

Come to Oasis and I’ll show your around.

Just watch out for the deadly bats,

who come out at night with The Dead.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj