The Mammals: Parts I-III

I'm gambling that I didn't make it to Part III the last time. [Jul 30: Looks like I covered most of these eight chapters the first time.] Now I can finish it. I fixed the last lines of Part II so they don't overuse a word. Jul 28/11:55am: I've made a few more top-to-bottom changes on yesterday's poetry post here. I may need a little extra time now to add totally new chapters to my poems. Please stand by. I: The Marsupial Oliver Opossum poked his nose out through the leafy pile Seeing that the distance to his target was not far Through the neatly tended lawn, he crept along in silent guile To the waste facility and found the door ajar This convenient reservoir of items for his family's need Bordered on the hinterland where he'd made his abode Chutes and seeds and crumbs of pie crust, on which kin would happily feed Swelled the shell of cast off plastic where they smartly stowed In the dark of shift's conclusion, his strong sniffer was his best guide To the mound of bloated pouches holding what he sought Chewing through the outer layer to reduce some weight was best tried If he wanted long to manage with the load he brought Once he had a bit securely clenched between his diligent jaws He proceeded dragging his prize back the way he came There would not be time to snack or even for the slenderest pause On the way to finalizing his illicit claim Suddenly the animal was by electric light bulbs struck dumb And the watchman's accusation calling him a rat Oliver held both his hands up, each complete with fingers and thumb As to his identity's proof, certain that was that By the truncheon hurtling towards him with a murderous force Accurate enough to make him duck his wily head Oliver instinctively employed the threatened possum's recourse Flipping himself over and pretending to be dead His attacker was about to scoop his body with a spade blade When the rustle of another burglar caught his ear Soon as in the open, the opossum his express escape made Functioning on stimulants injected by his fear Homeward to his warm dependants, with his catch in tow behind him He began the journey up a rugged sloping hill With the eager cry of his impatient mate to rise and find him Telling him of bellies that demanded he should fill II: The Rodent Marvin was a mountain marmot, working on an excavation High in the exclusive reaches of a rocky pass With the autumn colours drew the hour of his hibernation Deep beneath a surface frozen in a sheet of glass He had had a lucky year, discovering a patch of flowers Following the flight path of a knowledgable crow With his yellow underside turned upward, he had passed the hours Hunger pangs alleviated, nowhere else to go Now with plenty of provisions and his faith restored by sunlight Resolutely, he displaced the soil from his spot Checking edges for a defect to make sure the job was done right In the digging out of a secure and cozy plot Halfway down, he struck a solid layer giving stiff resistance Forcing him to fiercely pull, in order to remove Stubbornly the boulders came out, one by one, for his persistence As his bothersome condition slowly would improve Driven chiefly by a snout that wasn't fashioned for detecting What distinguished precious metal from a common stone He let ore accumulate until he had a heap reflecting Out from the locality of where he worked alone Once the sun began to lower, having made a deep impression Tired, he retired to his cottage made of sticks And before too long, he had to lethargy made his concession Lost within the drama of imaginary flicks Through the cracks in Marvin's flimsy barricade, the dawn broke slowly Finally compelling him to open up his eyes Though a bit stiff from his labours, on his goal he focussed wholly Getting up and running through his morning exercise He retraced his footsteps as they led directly to the work site But there was an ending to the path that he had worn Climbing to the limit of the once proud mountain's less than full height With the vast remainder having been completely shorn III: The Carnivore At the close of mating season, some keep cool their disposition None more so than creatures in the tough and frigid zones For the canny Alex Fox, companionship was still his mission Someone to play tug with him and help him warm his bones Alex had a pretty sheen that caught the eye of Margarita As he circled round her with primordial intent From afar she looked all right, though quite impossible to read her Outside the allure of her intoxicating scent He pretended he had come to sniff along a nearby cluster Nodding unaffectedly as he paraded by His detachment took from him the strongest will that he could muster Of his passion's resolution, tormentingly shy Margarita needed proof to feel more sure about his fitness Though his presentation at the moment ranked the best Feats of daring and of skill it was her privilege to witness By submitting Alex to a formidable test They went to a murky hole where she had dropped a tasty morsel Whose imposing mouth was too constricting for her grasp Wishing to appear to her as of the two the more resourceful He poked in his forepaw and attempted it to clasp His paw came out mushy from his contact with a mother's payload Good enough for both of them to share a sweeping lick To another grab for glory, obvious and clear the way showed And he'd gladly practice such a favourable trick Snow White Stork descended on them, mother's fury coming straight out Screeching like a banshee with her feathers all erect But with mediocre effort, the attack fell to a clean rout Alex after sustenance, not merely to protect After a delicious supper, they went off into the sunset Headed for a pair-bond of at least a fleeting bliss Solace from the wild would the roaming two be happy to get Previous abandonment a thing they would not miss (to be continued)
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© 2007, 2016. Verses by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.