John Puddifoot
John Puddifoot Poems
Is that a white cat sat in the window?
Or just a vase, tubby, there, silently?
A white cat watching pigeons come and go?
A two-eared pot that’s made from English clay?
...
My love is a star in a far-off galaxy –
U D F Y 4O8 double 3.
I know of her only through Hubble, you see.
In all outer space she has not noticed me.
...
The winter wheat has fallen in the field;
Its tender sprigs lie sundered on the clay.
The rain that bores in streams through line and line,
Has sluiced its precious life away.
...
The Best Poem Of John Puddifoot
The Far House (Or ‘perhaps I Should Get Out More? ’)
Is that a white cat sat in the window?
Or just a vase, tubby, there, silently?
A white cat watching pigeons come and go?
A two-eared pot that’s made from English clay?
How I regret the days my eyes were keen!
Watching for the thing to move along the sill,
Relaxing with my cup of China tea;
Even for a cat it seems so very still;
For a vase – it seems to move, for me.
And quite the strangest thing I've ever seen.
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4/26/2024 2:36:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
