Just a moment in Africa

Africa

Just before a storm there’s that heavy aching feeling in the sky and electric air. It’s as if the god’s have eaten too much and they have swelled up the sky and filled it with their tautness.

The grasses, trees and shrubs are dead still and almost magnified – waiting – straining and erect for those precious drops of rain to fall upon them so that they too, like the gods, may gorge themselves on welcome water and be able to store up enough supplies to last them through the harder times in between.

I sat just outside to the left of my tent under a tree. I am watching for all the ‘damp animals’ – the one’s who like to frolic and dance amongst the drops as if giving thanks to those glorious gods who have so very kindly provided life support once again.

Gorgeous George is playing with some of the dry leaves that are beginning to stir from being whispered at a little too strongly by the ground winds that slowly pick up as the storm intensifies.

George is my kitten, only not so little anymore – I decided to bring him with me again – I had no idea that he would bring me so much comfort here out in the vast scrubland of Africa.

There is a small lizard; I can see him panting on a flat rock. His breaths are short – he’s sniffing the moist air- totally immobile. George has seen him too and stops fighting his leaf. Slowly he sinks a few centimeters closer to the ground – his eyes almost fully taken up with the expanded pupil. Wriggling furiously he prepares to pounce – still miles away from what he believes is an unknowing lizard. Changing tactics he stalks a little closer. The lizard has seen George now but seems unintimidated. Peering out from under a stalk of whispy grass, 2 out of ten for camouflage George, his whiskers straining, he leaps. His intense energy and passion catapult him well past the intended target which scuttles in between the cracks in the rock unscathed…for now.

For the Love of Rastus – R.I.P 20th May 2016

rastas

A bright orange glow

you sit in the hedgerow

thinking you are hidden

and will get to catch the forbidden

but little do you know

your gingerness does show

even though you’re so still sitting

your camouflage seems to be what’s missing

You see the birds and can contain the frolics

but I’m sorry Rastas –

You stand out like dog’s bollocks!

You must wonder how come you don’t catch a bird

they must look at you and think you’re absurd

You’ll never catch them in your bright orange coat

Or feel their silky feathers in the back of your throat

I’ve seen the odd field mouse stiff on the bricks

but I just know, that’s not how you want your kicks

A crispy crunchy sparrow or a larger tasty minor

or perhaps a tender inside bird, something a little finer…

© Kait King, 2015

Daily grind of a good guy

Daily grind

I come home

the cat’s at my feet

kids are crying

but there’s nothing made to eat

It’s a hard day at work

with paper knee deep

and the heater’s broken

so I can’t get to sleep

Yet another day comes

we follow like sheep

I can’t find the faith

to make that big leap

I know I shouldn’t take it in

so very, very deep

But it seems to be sort of extra hard

when you aren’t someone who cheats

© Kait King, 2015

Duty, Cathedrals and St Francis

Duty st francis and cathedrals

Please be kind to all animals!

I walk in

I can’t speak

the reverence

sucks the air

out of me

candles glitter

in shapes of love

for all of the animals

bestowed from above
And if it is what

they say to be true,

if I’m shaped like the shape

of a god, just like you,

I know that I am duty-bound

to share that love for all

all around

© Kait King, 2015

Please Be Kind To All Animals