Boyhood
Cast: Patricia Arquette, Ellar Coltrane, Ethan Hawke, Lorelei Linklater, Tamara Jolaine, Evie Thompson
trailer for Boyhood, directed by Richard Linklater, screenplay by Richard Linklater (2014)
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When Mermaids Cry
She was drowned in suicide
Faithless lover cast aside
This is how she came to be
Lorelei of the sea
Hopes destroyed, she wanted to find
Certain death peace of mind
Now you wonder who is she
Lorelei of the sea
Many tales Ive been told of sailors having died
After seeing a mermaid known
As lorelei
Faithless lover that is me
And she siren of the sea
So next time that the seagulls fly
Dont you cry sweet lorelei
Chorus:
Seagulls fly
When mermaids cry
Those tears wont dry
For lorelei
The guilt is mine I was untrue
The question is what am I to do
All I know is I got to try
Try to find sweet lorelei
Make amends for whats been done
cause I believe that shes the one
And I will go where seagulls fly
Try to find sweet lorelei
Chorus
There she is I hear her cry
Shes asking me if I will die
There aint nothing I wont do
For you lorelei
Chorus
song performed by Eagle Eye Cherry
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Tamara Princess of Satira
I walk; carry the weight of the sands, dust particles of gold
Beneath, lay the tomb, resurrected in chamber of seven
Headed snake, guarding the abandoned soul of Princess Tamara
From Hanaring, the city of guardian angel
Her eyes full of killer’s instinct, bewildered with terror
Her walk creates the sound of ancient Jazz, symphonized
By the ruthless pharaohs, costumed in satire silk
When the moon shines on her flawless black hair,
An unwanted eclipse, overshadows every man’s heart
Zanatic climbs on every mind that sleeps
With velvet dream, wet by salty lips
The beat of drums, summoned by rushes of adrenalin
Ruins mellow hearts, starving for infinite orgasms
Hurricane halts, as Tamara blows her exile away
And drifting right to the laps of Prince Charming
City of Hanaring, once again echoed with satirical harp
That trounces and trances the lost souls, drown
In the river of Babylon
“Tamara, Tamara, Tamara, the Fauna and Flora,
Princess of Satira”
The royalties and commoners, chanting
“Hanaring is no longer crying, but dancing”
Prince Charming kneels before her
With jagged smile and a husky voice, he utters
“I’m here to feed your soul, with my gray heart
That turns red, when fed by yours”
In a brisk lightning of serenade vows
Murmur in silence pale
From dusk to dawn
Even Vampires, cease drinking blood
In respect of the Twosome
Tamara from Hanaring
The roaring...…
Princess
And the Prince Charming
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Lorelei
You told me tales of love and glory
Same old sad songs, same old story
The sirens sing no lullaby
And no-one knows but lorelei
By castles out of fairytales
Timbers shivered where once there sailed
The lovesick men who caught her eye
And no-one knew but lorelei
River, river have mercy
Take me down to the sea
For if I perish on these rocks
My love no more Ill see
Ive thought of you in far-off places
Ive puzzled over lipstick traces
So help me god, I will not cry
And then I think of lorelei
I travel far and wander wide
No photograph of you beside me
Ol man rivers not so shy
And he remembers lorelei
River, river have mercy
Take me down to the sea
For if I perish on these rocks
My love no more Ill see
If I should float upon this stream
And see you in my madmans dream
Id sink into your troubled eyes
And none would know cept lorelei
River, river have mercy
Take me down to the sea
For if I perish on these rocks
My love no more Ill see
But if my ship, which sails tomorrow
Should crash against these rocks,
My sorrows I will drown before I die
Its you Ill see, not lorelei
song performed by Pogues
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Hawke
In seventeen hundred and fifty-nine,
When Hawke came swooping from the West,
The French King's Admiral with twenty of the line,
Was sailing forth to sack us, out of Brest.
The ports of France were crowded, the quays of France a-hum
With thirty thousand soldiers marching to the drum,
For bragging time was over and fighting time was come
When Hawke came swooping from the West.
'Twas long past noon of a wild November day
When Hawke came swooping from the West;
He heard the breakers thundering in Quiberon Bay,
But he flew the flag for battle, line abreast.
Down upon the quicksands roaring out of sight
Fiercely beat the storm-wind, darkly fell the night,
But they took the foe for pilot and the cannon's glare for light
When Hawke came swooping from the West.
The Frenchmen turned like a covey down the wind
When Hawke came swooping from the West;
One he sank with all hands, one he caught and pinned,
And the shallows and the storm took the rest.
The guns that should have conquered us they rusted on the shore,
The men that would have mastered us they drummed and marched no more,
For England was England, and a mighty brood she bore
When Hawke came swooping from the West.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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The Fair of Beauty
I must confess! An angel must hide placidly undermine eyelids, for when I close them I see a word magnanimously delightful, and when I open them I see a pageant as sweet as a garden of sugar. I see the land of Lucien.
With languorous sunsets, charming lakes and emerald grass the land of Lucien is a place of beauty. It is a kingdom where romance lavishes the land. In the heart of Lucien, a small castle stands, ornamented with stained glass, beautiful balustrades and gothic arches. The gray stone which holds it together is forged by the hands of many peasants, but its form was conceived by the mind of one talented artisan. This gives the building a real integrity and a strange personality peculiar to one man. To that man no one knew or knows, no myth even could or can shed light into its mystery. "Mysteries shall be left mysterious, for shall they be discovered they lose their charm, " Madame Rupert once said with the eloquence of an aristocrat.
In this story there is no place for mystery, for beauty is forever revealing itself to us, but here is short history of Lucien. In order to understand this story I must give an account of the castle. The castle is called the house of Rupert, for the Rupert's have reigned over the land of Lucien for many a century. The family is everything royal except their horrible habit of being unconventional. They never marry within royal line, for they suffer from the malady of beauty and love and the lads of the family hold beauty contests to chose the wife they think the most beautiful. Dowries mean nil compared to a charming countenance in this world. They worship love, as other's worship the mammoth, however, they worship love with as much avidity as others worship the latter, that it would be quite pernicious to their name in a practical world, therefore, I thank Venus for making my land of Lucien quite unpractical, for here the Rupert's mania for beauty doesn't seem to affect their status, or their sanity, and more importantly their virtue.
Beauty! Beauty is the way of life here. The Rupert's excessive love of beauty transcends the emotion of admiration and even slips importunately into the realm of Justice. To the Rupert's, justice must follow the law of beauty, hence the inscription engraved in marble adorning the head of the entrance way which reads Beauty is Thine Nature, Justice Must Protect Thine Nature, and Good Shall Prosper Here, For Justice is Not Just Shall It Produce Bad Results.
The Story begins.
On this day, the 11th of August, the patriarch, the king, the majestic lord, King Eric de Rupert, dressed in raiment ebony, laced with gold ruffles, calls into session the Fair of Beauty. The king's brown Moorish eyes overlook the crowd and its meticulous beauty. The praetorian guards stand erect and proud; magenta rubies are sewn into the turbans resting upon their heads; their scarlet cloaks are stained with the blood of dead youth and underneath their pleasant attire lay a well of gold, for their skin appears to be laced with gold.
Dear reader, music always seems to sing from the heart. For musicians play lovely tunes with their skillfully wrought instruments. The ceremony is conducted in a way to infuse a merry emollient on all the hearts of all the spectators'. The scenery is potent in beautiful colors, an elegant display of fashion rests listlessly on all who attend, and an uncanny feast is prepared and served in lovely style, that one didn't notice, if what one is eating, is good or not. That is the charm of beauty here, it has no taste, like water, it is a necessity to live.
A squire whispers to his wanton mistress, "The King appears to be alone, for where is his noble wife and her amorous spirit? "
"The King looks so handsome this evening maybe he'll notice my azure mascara, " said Lyla to her girlfriend Plenie.
"The King sees nothing but beauty, that is what makes him so irresistible, " replied Plenie.
'For twenty years he has ruled with compassion and benevolence, and twenty years more shall he be loved with compassion and benevolence, " said Lorenzo the accountant.
(The King rises from a throne made of Persian Wood)
The King: "Tis my favorite time of all my life. The Fair of Beauty is born again. My apologies, my fellow citizens, for my wife's heart is empty of jealously; for it flows through her purple veins. I am sorry for time has wrinkled her very forehead and shriveled her very hands. She will not attend this lovely noble ceremony because she is conceived herself not beautiful enough. I, myself, could not convince her, that she herself, is still beautiful in body and soul. For she is a woman and gentleman we know how women can be. I give thee my humble apologies for her absence. My people, dear citizens of Lucien, thou shall receive a barrel of honey for such a grievous loss. For I know how thee cherish her beauty as a school of fish cherish the sea. Therefore let us partake of the glorious ceremony. Shall it begin! "
Here is the Ode of Beauty that my ancestors have passed to me by way of memory and mouth.
Sympathy is in thy sigh,
Kindness blessed thy hand
Beauty is in thy eye
Love looks on thy land
Live and be Free
And thou will See
What is Noble
In You and Me.
King: "Beauty shall triumph! As you know, my son Menillo Rupert, has been courting five exquisite women for the last year. Tonight he shall chose the love of his life, and forever live in happiness, because love is the panacea to all our sorrows. For to have love means to never die, to know nothing of vulgarity, to dwell lazily under the eyes of another, and to never know of loneliness. For your beloved knows thee without inquiry and loves thee without scruples."
(Menillo enters escorted by five guardsmen of refined physical features and envious beauty.)
King: "For my son to see true beauty and know real truth his eyes shall be covered by the cloth of Tangerine."
(A Guard places a vermillion blindfold over the eyes of Menillo)
King: Call on the beauties of earth so they can test their heart to the heart of mine son.
(Enter the Five Beauties of Earth)
King: "Shatalana, the first beauty, who comes from the Ivory Coast, whose skin smells of coconuts, whose vigorous eyes stir my lands imagination. How lovely are thee."
King: "Carmelita, the second beauty, who comes from South America, the Incan sun light rests inside thine skin, and your thick strands of hair flow like a gentle spring wind. How lovely are thee."
King: "Unchi, the third beauty, who comes from the Korean peninsula, your skin is a like a doll's skin, and your heart burns with the intensity of a hot spring which colors thy cheek. How lovely are thee."
[...] Read more
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Lorelei
Back in the days of knights in armor
There once lived a lovely charmer
Swimming in the rhine
Her figure was divine
She had a yen for all the sailors
Fishermen and gobs and whalers
She had a most immoral eye
They called her lorelei
She created quite a stir
And I want to be like her
I want to be like that gal on the river
Who sang her song to the ships passing by
She had the goods and how she could deliver
The lorelei
She used to love in a strange kind of fashion
With lots of hey-ho-de-ho-hi-de-hi
And I can guarantee Im full of passion
Like the lorelei
Im treacherous, yeah-yeah
Oh, I just cant hold myself in check
Im lecherous, yeah-yeah
I want to bite my initials on a sailors neck
Each affair has a kick and a wallop
For what they crave, I can always supply
I want to be just like that other trollop
The lorelei
I want to be just like that other trollop
The lorelei
song performed by Ella Fitzgerald
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Lorelei
Written by dennis deyoung and james young
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
When I think of lorelei my head turns all around
As gentle as a butterfly she moves without a sound
I call her on the telephone, she says be there by eight
Tonights the night shes moving in and I can hardly wait
The way she moves, ooh-ooh
I gotta say
Lorelei lets live together
Brighter than the stars forever
Lorelei lets live together
Brighter than the stars forever
Her eyes become of paradise, she softly speaks my name
She brightens every lonely night, no ones quite the same
She calls me on the telephone, she says be there by eight
Tonights the night shes moving in, its time to celebrate
The way she moves, ooh-ooh
I gotta say
Lorelei lets live together
Brighter than the stars forever
Lorelei lets live together
Brighter than the stars forever
song performed by Styx
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Macbreath
A Tragedy as Played at Ryde**
Macbreath Mr Henley
Macpuff Mr Terry
The Ghost
ACT I
TIME: The day before the election
SCENE: A Drummoyne tram running past a lunatic asylum.
All present are Reform Leaguers and supporters of Macbreath.
They seat themselves in the compartment.
MACBREATH: Here, I'll sit in the midst.
Be large in mirth. Anon we'll all be fitted
With Parliamentary seats.
(Voter approaches the door.)
There's blood upon thy face.
VOTER: 'Tis Thompsons's, then.
MACBREATH: Is he thrown out? How neatly we beguiled
The guileless Thompson. Did he sign a pledge agreeing to retire?
VOTER: Aye, that he did.
MACBREATH: Not so did I!
Not on the doubtful hazard of a vote
By Ryde electors, cherry-pickers, oafs,
That drive their market carts at dread of night
And sleep all day. Not on the jaundiced choice
Of folks who daily run their half a mile
Just after breakfast, when the steamer hoots
Her warning to the laggard, not on these
Relied Macbreath, for if these rustics' choice
Had fall'n on Thompson, I should still have claimed
A conference. But hold! Is Thompson out?
VOTER: My lord, his name is mud. That I did for him
I paid my shilling and I cast my vote.
MACBREATH: Thou art the best of all the shilling voters.
Prithee, be near me on election day
To see me smite Macpuff, and now we shan't
Be long,
(Ghost of Thompson appears.)
What's this? A vision!
Thou canst not say I did it! Never shake
Thy gory locks at me. Run for some other seat,
Let the woods hide thee. Prithee, chase thyself!
(The ghost of Thompson disappears, and Macbreath revives himself
[...] Read more
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Tamara
Where waves of the Terek are waltzing
In Dariel's wickedest pass,
There rises from bleakest of storm crags
An ancient grey towering mass.
In this tower by mad winds assaulted,
Sat ever Tamara, the Queen--
A heavenly angel of beauty,
With a spirit of hell's own demesne.
Through the mist of the night her gold fires
Gleamed down through the valley below,
A welcome they threw to the pilgrim,
In their streaming and beckoning glow.
How clear rang the voice of Tamara!
How amorous did it invite!
The heart of the stranger enticing,
Seducing with magic delight!
The warrior was snared by her singing,
Nor noble, nor herd could withstand--
Then noiseless her portal was opened
By eunuchs of shadowy hand.
With pearls rare adorned and strange jewels,
Reposed on a billowy nest,
A prey to voluptuous longing,
Tamara awaited her guest.
With passioned and thrilling embracement,
With straining of breast unto breast,
With sighing and trembling and transport--
In lust's unrestrained, giddy zest--
So revelled 'mid desolate ruins,
Of Lovers,--past counting at least!
In their bridal night's wild distraction,
And in truth at their own death feast.
For when from the peaks of the mountains
The sun tore the night's veiling soft,
There reigned anew only the silence
On turret and casement aloft.
And only the Terek bewailing
With fury broke in on the hush,
As dashing her billows on billows
Her writhing floods onward did rush.
[...] Read more
poem by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
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Tamara The Sequel
The dried leaves cripple, lifeless,
Stomped underneath his restless feet
Open the path to the falling waters
Visible through naked eyes,
So arrogant
Spread its wings, like Garuda
Tons of sounds, fall into
The river, where Tamara unleashes her voluptuous
Flesh, for the Sun to glimpse with a smile
Her mountainous breasts, tremor
Whenever it touch the cold water
Breathlessness has captured the Prince
Amid the brisk walk he endures
To find the fortress that seals thousands
Of secrets, concealing her well kept beauty
He looks up to the blue sky
Whispers to scores of Hummingbirds
“Hey buddies, lead me to the Princess,
And I’ll make you, a Kingdom”
The Hummingbirds unhesitant
Lead him to the Hanging Garden of Babylon
Like walking into a dream that never ends
Pink Primrose, Mountain Laurel, Hellebores,
Hydrangea, Persimmon and Glory Lily
Her smell is like those flowers
The Hummingbirds sing to him
“Tamara wants you to scratch her back,
Scratch her back, scratch her back,
And she’ll scratch yours”
With laughter that drums up
His heart beat, Prince Charming
Runs his way through the enchanting waters
Naked, he kisses Princess Tamara, who is
Forever more, wants to die in his arms
Heavy tears, dropp from the sky above
Flooding the two souls, vanish
Into ecstasy,
A lifetime gift
They are the priceless gems
Almandine Garnet, Chrome Tourmaline,
Larimar, Peridot, Rhodochrosite
They are those gems
Morning dews sizzle, panoramically
As the couple, dance
In the bed of Roses
[...] Read more
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Before The Dawn
(brian greenway)
Published by greentunes, inc. - bmi
Lori, laura, lori, lorelei
Sunshine in the night
Youre makin everything worthwhile
You know I need your love
Pretty lady, help me now
But do you love me
I got to know, Ive got to know now
Oh, long ago I had a lady
She looked alot like you
She lied to my face, yeah, such a disgrace
I had to leave, couldnt play the fool
Here I am again in love, baby
Ive been this way before
I need your touch, need it so much
I need you, I need you, I do
Baby baby, be my friend
You know Im gonna love you all I can
Before the dawn is breakin
Im gonna change your mind, yeah yeah
And youll love me baby, come on love me
Come on lorelei
If you spent a lifetime thinkin bout the day
Would you know how many nights Ive cried
I see your face in my mind, Ive tried but I just cant find
A way, I need you bad
Babe, youre tearin me apart
You know, you know I gave you
Every little piece of my heart
Before the dawn is breakin
Im gonna change your mind, yeah yeah
And youll love me baby, come on love me
Come on lorelei
song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Friend of Light
As earth prepared its meeting with the sky
And my wishing to watch the sun slowly
Sink into the spectacular glow, instead
I basked in the dark not trusting light.
Then along came Patricia, who chased
Away loneness, fears and all its hosts
You used the means to mine beauty, joy and grace
That I may feel, taste and SEE, and turn to
You when my spirit needs a lift.
Patricia, lovingly called Pat, and my dearest friend:
I remember the first day we met. You
Accepted me and all my grime even instilled
In me that spirituality and beliefs restores.
You cared for me as I scrambled on the floor.
I didn't know where or how to go, yet you kept in touch,
Reached out your hands and picked me off the floor; then
Helped me clean off the grime.
I put on my fine and
Stepped into the light!
Patricia Dick-Arnell and Kevin Turner may you be blessed and Graced with compassion and love for each that'll pervade the world!
Stay in the light evermore…
By Almedia Knight-Oliver
December 7,2012
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Squire Hawkins's Story
I hain't no hand at tellin' tales,
Er spinnin' yarns, as the sailors say;
Someway o' 'nother, language fails
To slide fer me in the oily way
That LAWYERS has; and I wisht it would,
Fer I've got somepin' that I call good;
But bein' only a country squire,
I've learned to listen and admire,
Ruther preferrin' to be addressed
Than talk myse'f--but I'll do my best:--
Old Jeff Thompson--well, I'll say,
Was the clos'test man I ever saw!--
Rich as cream, but the porest pay,
And the meanest man to work fer--La!
I've knowed that man to work one 'hand'--
Fer little er nothin', you understand--
From four o'clock in the morning light
Tel eight and nine o'clock at night,
And then find fault with his appetite!
He'd drive all over the neighberhood
To miss the place where a toll-gate stood,
And slip in town, by some old road
That no two men in the county knowed,
With a jag o' wood, and a sack o' wheat,
That wouldn't burn and you couldn't eat!
And the trades he'd make, 'll I jest de-clare,
Was enough to make a preacher swear!
And then he'd hitch, and hang about
Tel the lights in the toll-gate was blowed out,
And then the turnpike he'd turn in
And sneak his way back home ag'in!
Some folks hint, and I make no doubt,
That that's what wore his old wife out--
Toilin' away from day to day
And year to year, through heat and cold,
Uncomplainin'--the same old way
The martyrs died in the days of old;
And a-clingin', too, as the martyrs done,
To one fixed faith, and her ONLY one,--
Little Patience, the sweetest child
That ever wept unrickonciled,
Er felt the pain and the ache and sting
That only a mother's death can bring.
Patience Thompson!--I think that name
Must 'a' come from a power above,
Fer it seemed to fit her jest the same
As a GAITER would, er a fine kid glove!
[...] Read more
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Circle
Cast: Karen Gillan, Emma Watson, Tom Hanks, John Boyega, Ellar Coltrane, Bill Paxton, Patton Oswalt, Ellen Wong, Glenne Headly, Poorna Jagannathan, Nate Corddry
trailer for The Circle, directed by James Ponsoldt, screenplay by James Ponsoldt, inspired by Dave Eggers (2017)
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The Circle [trailer 2]
Cast: Karen Gillan, Emma Watson, Tom Hanks, John Boyega, Ellar Coltrane, Bill Paxton, Patton Oswalt, Ellen Wong, Glenne Headly, Poorna Jagannathan, Nate Corddry
trailer for The Circle, directed by James Ponsoldt, screenplay by James Ponsoldt, inspired by Dave Eggers (2017)
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My Angered Heart
I cant stand this any more
all she wants to do is fight
or that's what it seems like
why cant she just speak any good words
who has that much evil in them
I don't know why I even care
the house is in his name the land to
so is the car and us kids wont be going with her
if they split up
only if Ethan goes with her witch I highly doubt I will go with him
I'm not going to have that boy go with her alone
no way
the first time she fucking touches him I will call the cops
because that's not cool at all so if she wants us she better not touch anyone of us
cause I'm sick of it
I'm sick of her hurting Ethan and just sitting there not doing anything about it
I'm sick of just taking it not fighting back
that's not right
sick of the way she yells at us just to blow off steam every day
sick of hiding my true feelings
she makes me want to run away and\or kill myself
why don't I
a hand full of reasons
I have my baby brother that if I ran away she would kill him
my dog I love her so much and she would die with out me
or I let myself believe because with out her
I would have a broken heart and would die anyway
my education I need it to beet her
to show her that anyone even me could make something good
for a job to support me and my other half (him)
I think that's about all
when I turn 18 I have about 30 days left and I will start packing
taking stuff to Washington soon after that on the weekends
to lead a better life with out her
but I will come back to visit everyone else but her
until I can forgive my her for what she has done to Ethan over the years
I cant come back to see her
if I do my flaming in anger heart would explode
with so much fury
I would kill her
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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My Known But Unknown Savor
the black cloud kept getting bigger and bigger
it was right on top of me
wush lightening and missed me by inches
then almost at the same time BOOM thunder rings loud in my ears
I start running and running away
screaming for help but it seemed as if no one could hear me
over the lightening and thunder
I scream again and again being a kid in a world of terror
I keep on running away from the lightening that was attacking me furiously
it was catching up to me
as I tripped I turn onto my back
I couldn’t move
I was scarred stiff
the cloud formed into a face and it was grinning at me
then I said to myself please someone please help me
the next moment I saw your face
asking me to take your hand
I wipe away the hail that has been blown into my eyes from the gushing wind
and said dad is that you
all you said was Becky-Becky Ann take my hand please
as soon as I took your hand I was sitting on a white fluffy cloud
I began to ask questions like
why was that cloud shooting lightening at me,
and how did you know I needed help and a million others
we talked for hours
then once he answered all my questions he said
Becky-Becky Ann I love you and Ethan very much
you are a very strong person and so is Ethan but he just doesn’t know it yet
take good care of him but I have to go now
I love you Becky-Becky Ann and tell Ethan I love him too
and remember when ever you need help
all you have to say is please and really mean it
and I’ll be there to save you
I love you too daddy
I say as a tear ran down my face
that is the day I knew she had died
but I found out that no amount of evil
can out do good and
that my dad is my unknown
but known savor
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Why all these taboos for the fatal dance?
[A poor farmer, Ethan Frome lives his days throwing his powerful body into trying to draw a living from the frozen ground of his land as well as tending to his dour, sickly wife.When his wife's cousin Mattie comes to help, Ethan eventually finds himself in love with the sweet young woman who shyly tends to her chores about the cold wooden house.]-Quoted from Edith Wharton's celebrtated novel, 'Ethan Frome'.
To that beautiful Widow next door
who winks and sneezes
in his wintry faded dreams
Jingle with sleigh-bells!
He would like to dance
on slippery floors
Because he doesn't know the art of right steps
As Santa Claus?
humbly to the poetess Sridevi!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sinister
Cast: Ethan Hawke, Juliet Rylance, James Ransone, Vincent D'Onofrio, Clare Foley, Fred Dalton Thompson, Michael Hall D'Addario, Cameron Ocasio, Danielle Kotch, Victoria Leigh
trailer for Sinister, directed by Scott Derrickson, screenplay by Scott Derrickson (2012)
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The Singing Bat
A bird was caught inside a trap
which closed its claws with a loud snap.
The snap was heard by Fritz the cat
who had been stalking a young bat.
The bat was hanging from a tree
had wrapped around a twig his knee.
'AHA', the cat now saw the bird
it was a finch, and it occurred
to Fritz the cat that here was food
enough to lift a feline's mood.
He'd eat the bird right in the trap
and afterward take a short nap.
The finch had lifted up his wing
and, full of love, began to sing.
He figured if this day meant death
he'd entertain with his last breath.
The cat was just about to eat
when that sweet voice, now in defeat,
sang, in e-flat the Lorelei
and Fritz the cat began to cry.
And if you know a thing or two
perhaps from visits to the Zoo:
A cat can either eat or cry,
not both. And trapped birds cannot fly.
The bat, who had observed the drama
in upside-down-like panorama,
approached because this tearful issue
required help and Kleenex tissue.
The closest thing to tissue though
is bat-wing skin and if you blow
across the tears toward the wing
a bat will likely start to sing.
And, right away, that's what transpired,
the bat sang loudly. And inspired
the cat to see him as a meal,
complete with musical appeal.
The bat soon sang of Mother Goose,
predictably, tied his own noose.
Was eaten by the hungry cat,
it's Nature's way when cat eats bat.
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