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The Cat With Eight Lives

At five years old Lucky grew wise
If rumours were steadfast and true
But it’s not just the east, where whispers deceive
Your senses and alter your views

At birth he was given, a name that was bound
To catch him off-guard and reveal
To believe every word, is just as absurd
As a cat growing wings like a bird

Each morning at eight, lucky would wait
For the pigeon he’d come to resent
At the top of the tree, he’d perch to escape
So, he planned a cunning accent

Eight times he tried, but each time he climbed
He fell and was injured but healed
But lucky was wise, so he didn’t devise
Another attempt, or he’d reach his demise

This was more than a game, like a moth to a flame
He didn’t succeed but he tried
While he napped in the sun, with a saucer of milk
He was snatched by a fox and he died

A credulous cat, a crafty old fox
And a pigeon who lives to this day
Don’t push your luck, there’s a price to be paid
And there’s more to a cat than his name

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I like it a lot. It reminds me of some old Russian or Crimean state fable. Might it be based on something of the sort?
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Not sure what the form is... but no matter, good stuff. ~ Geezer.
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This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place

It's not based on that - i wish it was formed from something so deep. This is the inspiration: I was in a car with my dad and he nearly hit a cat. The cat lived and made me think of cats with nine lives. Then thought I'd add a twist.

author comment

Nice story, you made a story where there was none, or at least there was the potential, but no real story or fable or any of that. What I'm trying to say is nice job. I can appreciate that. ~ Geezer.
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This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place

Your poem has so much going for it, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Each verse tells the tale of the cat and its auspicious naming. I like the way you drew me in. Your imagery comes to life in the reader’s mind: ‘it’s not just the east where whispers deceive’

With its purposeful meter and non rhyming schemes I couldn't help but read it as if it was a song.

I loved the characters in this story: a credulous cat, a crafty old fox, and the pigeon who lives to this day. This serves to remind us that pushing our luck can have consequences and there’s more to the cat than just his name.

But it’s the contrast that each animal brings to the poem with their anthropomorphic qualities that brings them alive in the reader’s mind. Your use of storytelling to explore wisdom and deception over the pursuit of personal desire gives us a taste of the risks the cat has pursued. Well done, great poem. Ruby

Commenting on poetry builds community, confidence, and comprehension. :)

Lucky feels like he should be a character in this classic book of poems. This almost feels like there is a bit of karma thrown in there as well and the pigeon got the last laugh. Well done.

~RoseBlack~

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