Softly, in the dusk she landed.

He placed the two pronged ladder

Through the apple tree

It is winter he grumbled

There should be no need of this

The cider scent from the tree

Was the only consolation

As he scrambled through the boughs

The voice from the upper window

Informing him – keep left a little

Mind your step, his left instep

Taking most of his body weight

Beginning to feel the strain

The ladder, swaying was not at all

Helping matters – the voice from the

Upper window now informing him

You can come down now

The cat is safe and well

She came down on the blind side of the tree.

Poetry from The Man Shed

06/01/2020

~The Poet’s Poet~