Thus one was inspired by Robyn's Mom...

Today's post b3gins with a fractal called Roses for Mother since it was Robyn's Mom who inspired the work. She once said: "you're so talented and creative--why can't you clean up after yourself?" and I was off and running. In the end I think it expresses the frustration that parents often feel with their children. And, as you can see--I've also been writing silly doggerel for many, many years. (I've also been doing strange things with capitalization . . .)

Can you hear my silent song?

A chordless melody

Can you reach the farthest star

And bring it down to me?

* * *

Can you say some garbled words

That cast a Spell of Love?

Can you climb the Stair of Smoke

That leads to Realms Above?

* * *

Can you see the Mystic Jewel,

The Key to the Crystal Maze?

Can you shine a Bacon Light

To penetrate the Haze?

* * *

Now can you move the World for me

And make the Sun stand still?

Then can you turn the Moon to cheese

And then go eat your fill?

* * *

My dear your gifts are great enough

To halt onrushing Doom.

But though you do these won'd'rous things

Why can't you clean your room?

* * *

In Praise of Cats

This post begins with the fractal image called Feathery Crown. It has no relation whatsoever to the poem below (well maybe because cats like to play with feathery cat toys) but I thought it was kind of pretty.
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I am not an advocate of eating pets (unless one is really, really hungry!) but I'm much more a fan of canines then felines. This poem sprang from a quick made by my friend "Rook" Ransey. He said: "people who don't like cats just don't know how to cook 'em!" and this poem took shape in a matter of minutes.

Cats are lovely. Cats are good.

Cats enrich your neighborhood.

Cats are perfect. Cats are fine.

Cats taste best when cooked with wine.

Boiled or baked or in a stew

Feline meat is good for tyou.

So, served in sauce or en flambe

Lets all eat pussy every day!