"The Transience of Life" 

by A.M. Monaghan

I found a dead Monarch butterfly
lying in the garden, 
it's frail brilliant wings flapping in the
cold winter morning breeze
and I thought of the transience of all
life in the universe and I was
grateful for the passing moments
I have experienced and all the
passing moments I have yet to experience.

"Mallard Duck and Raymond Carver" by A. Monaghan

You are a well fed, bold and barking Mallard duck,
and you approach at an alarming speed.
I give you bread, I give you banana,
and that's all I have to offer.
You gobble up the bread,
and hesitantly eat the banana from my hand,
lightly nipping my finger, snapping your beak for more.
That is all I have to give you Mallard,
so, I read to you from a book of poetry by Raymond Carver.
You "quack quack" and turn away.
"Harsh critic", I say, as you waddle to the next customer.
Poetry will never feed a duck.

"The Family Goat" by A. Monaghan

“I step across the little brook to feed the family goat,
And, am grateful this small waterway, does not require a boat.

I often sit and contemplate him standing in his field,
And marvel at the produce that this little goat can yield.

He must be very happy in his little bit of pasture,
For, the milk & cheese he has offered up, is twice as much as last year.”

Written in tribute to and in the the style off William McConagall.

*William Topaz McGonagall (10 March 1825 – 29 September 1902)
Scottish weaver and amateur poet and actor. He won notoriety as a singularly bad poet who exhibited no recognition or concern of his peers’ opinions of his work. He wrote some 200 poems, including the infamous “Tay Bridge Disaster”, which are widely regarded as some of the worst in British history. His influence has been sighted by Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers and Billy Connolly, among others.

"Two Rosellas in a Silver Birch Tree" by A. Monaghan

A fat grey house cat

with sharp golden eyes.
Sitting dumb, behind a window pane,
his face reflected in the glass
furiously watching...

A pair of Eastern Rosellas,
noisy, riotous, rude and overflowing
with colour.
Bold and brazen,
bouncing among the branches
off an adjacent Silver Birch tree,
out of the cat's reach.

I laugh at the cat's frustration, and walk on.
"Mister tigger", I say,

"you aint the king of the jungle today"!

"The Black Cat Davy" by A. M. Monaghan

"The Black Cat Davy"

I am the black cat Davy... and I am crime!
An inky, murky shadow on the sleeping cities grime.
I'm the feline midnight stalker, the terror off the streets,
I steal the breath from babies as their nursing mothers sleep.

A coal black, steel eyed rambler, a glimpse of flashing claw,
As the governor of the underworld I live outside the law.
I creep in open windows, exit boldly on the street,
I jump the highest rooftops always landing on my feet.

I am the black cat Davy... and I am crime!
My midnight, full-moon screech will send a shiver up your spine.
Lock up your precious puss-kin, when Davy is in town,
Your little kitty's honour is at risk when I'm around.

I rule the midnight underworld, I'm the dusk to dawn crime chief,
If something goes down on my watch, I always get my piece.
And if you ever cross me on a dark and moonless night,
You better have your claws out, and be ready for the fight!

I am the black cat Davy...and I am crime!
This shrouded , shady criminal has mischief on his mind.
And if your mangy carcass stops, or wanders through my patch,
You'd best beware, I'll carve you up, with more than just a scratch.

But...when the night is closing and the dawn is coming on
You'll find the black cat Davy like a puff off smoke is gone.
I jump and run and leap and dash, to my masters cozy den,
And the sinful, fiendish Davy becomes a pussy cat again.