Poem: "Never So Pretty"
This poem came out of the September 6, 2022 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from Dreamwidth users Readera, See_also_friend, and Chanter1944. It also fills the "One is never so pretty after being mended." square in my 9-1-22 card for the Land of Oz Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with DW user Fuzzyred. It belongs to the Officer Pink thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.
"Never So Pretty"
[Wednesday, June 10, 2015]
Ansel always enjoyed
visiting his family farm.
Today the rolling hills
were velvet green under
the golden summer sun.
Turq accompanied him,
nose frisking the air
for any information.
They had arranged
for Turq's cohort
to come out here;
the fresh air and sun
were good for them.
Nebuly and Saffron were
easy enough to invite, and
they'd finally gotten Tyria too.
The supercats were coming
as well, curious to meet
Norma Jean's farm cats.
Well, that ought to be interesting.
Ansel hugged his grandparents
as soon as he arrived, with
Turq following just behind.
"Thank you for having us
here today," he told them.
"You're always welcome,
dear," said Norma Jean.
"It's always good to see
you again," said Conrad.
Tyria was already ensconced
on the front porch, her hands
curled around a glass of iced tea.
Nebuly sat beside her, his feet
slowly moving the white porch swing.
Saffron had a rocking chair to herself,
reminding her not to rub against people,
or at least not while in human form.
The supercats were perched on
the edge of the porch, watching
everything all around them.
Mrrhow the Mercurial stood out
as bright white as the pillars, but
Cayenne and Napoleon blended
into the rich red-brown wood.
"Change if you like," Turq invited.
"The farm smells so exciting!"
He flowed into his caney form, and
then ran in circles sniffing everything.
Laughing, Nebuly abandoned
his seat on the swing to join Turq
as the blue tricolor border collie
known as Merle. He was mostly
black-spotted gray with a white belly
and bits of tan blushing his cheeks.
"Don't mind if I do," Tyria said,
jumping down as the purple cat
that Chulli had named Padma.
Saffron was slower to respond,
but eventually she shifted into
her felydd form, which was sort of
a cat-fox blend that had long fur
in shades of yellow and peach.
"Shall we go visit the farm cats?"
said Norma Jean. "They like
to hang out in the barns."
The barns were cozy and
always full of mice, of course
the farm cats loved them.
"I'm game," Conrad said,
stepping down from the porch.
The supercats bounded after him.
"Watch your feet," Ansel warned.
"The supercats are all full of ginger."
As they walked, all three of them
twined around their ankles,
trying to trip everyone.
Ansel and Turq were
used to this dance.
Cayenne swerved
in front of Ansel, and
he stepped on her tail,
making her screech.
"Sorry," he said.
"Watch yourself!"
Napoleon seemed
more inclined to try
annoying Conrad.
Mrrhow in particular
stuck close to Saffron,
leaping over her and
crawling under her and
rubbing everywhere.
Whatever she had to say,
she was saying it in Cat.
Then again, maybe
it was as simple as,
I'm here, you're here
too, be here now.
In the barn, they found
a cat with three kittens who
looked about two months old.
Two of them were black-and-white --
one with a black nose, the other
with a white nose -- while the third
was brown-and-white like her mother.
All of them had big round heads
and observant gazes that suggested
intelligence, at least above average
for cats, though not human range.
Tyria stepped forward and
delicately sniffed noses
with the mother cat.
Saffron didn't risk it,
but instead explored
a stack of straw bales,
her golden coat blending in.
Mrrhow followed behind her,
long white tail waving gently,
more visible in the shadows.
Cayenne and Napoleon
dashed away into the barn.
"Well, there goes trouble,"
Ansel muttered. "Should I
go after them, do you think?"
"Naw, let 'em learn for
themselves," said Conrad.
Nebuly resumed human form
and sat on the straw bales,
leaning back against the wall.
Turq shifted to sit with him.
"I love your barn," Nebuly said.
"It feels so peaceful here."
"Ayup," said Conrad. "That is
why Norma Jean in her wisdom
bought this place for me."
Nebuly looked up at him.
"Really?" he said softly.
"Did ... did it work, then?"
"It did for me, and it has for
others since," said Conrad.
"It takes time, but it does work."
"I figured Conrad needed a place
where he could spend plenty of time
in nature, and do work that mattered,
but at a slower pace than townfolks
tend to demand," said Norma Jean.
"Come out any time," Conrad offered.
"We've always got a shoulder to cry on,
food to eat, work to do -- whatever
you need in the moment."
"Thanks," said Nebuly.
"I'll think about that."
"I've come here before,
and I like it a lot," said Turq.
"It helps me feel calmer."
"I can see why," Nebuly said.
One hand stroked the straw.
Suddenly the air shredded
with the sounds of a cat fight.
Cayenne tore out of the barn,
then came Napoleon, chased
by a cat half again his size.
Squalling, Napoleon tried
to hide behind Ansel, only
for the bigger cat to start
chasing him in circles.
"Mountaintop, you leave
that fool cat alone now,"
Norma Jean scolded.
The huge tomcat gave
one last growl and then
stalked back to his turf,
his tail held stiff and high.
"Shouldn't have messed
with the tomcat," Conrad said.
Napoleon gave a mournful yowl
and pawed at his bloody nose.
"Guess you ain't as smart as you
think you are," Norma Jean said,
and went to fetch the first aid kit.
Both girls had turned back to
their human forms by then.
Saffron was sniffling and
Tyria was trying to comfort her.
"Nothing that can't be mended,"
Ansel said. "Napoleon will be
fine once Norma Jean's done."
"One is never so pretty after
being mended," Saffron said softly.
Well ... Turq wasn't the only one
who came out of the compound
with a mess of scars on him.
"I think you were never so pretty
as you are now," Tyria said.
"You're free, Saffron, and that's
the most beautiful thing of all."
"What she said," Ansel echoed.
"Even Napoleon is free to make
his own mistakes, and learn from
them ... or not, that's up to him."
From the look of Napoleon,
he probably had learned not
to pick a fight with someone
so much bigger than him.
Eh, time would tell.
Norma Jean returned
with the first aid kit.
"Napoleon, be good,"
Ansel said. "If you scratch
my grandmother, then you're
getting a bath, with shampoo."
Napoleon didn't say anything,
but did flatten himself on the floor,
and stayed still until his poor nose
had been cleaned and patched up.
Turq and his cohort just watched,
which was more than Ansel
would have hoped for.
Maybe, just maybe, some
of what they had survived
could be healed too. In time.
They all walked back to the house,
a little more bedraggled, perhaps wiser.
Mrrhow the Mercurial rode atop
Saffron's shoulder, purring comfort.
Turq rubbed his wrist as they walked,
the long mess of striationary scars
clearly visible since he was wearing
short sleeves in the summer heat.
"You're never so pretty too, Turq,
scars and all," Ansel murmured,
grateful to Tyria for the phrasing.
"You really think so?" Turq said.
"I mean, I'm still kind of a mess."
Ansel touched the handprint scar
that wrapped around his own wrist.
He wouldn't trade that for anything,
souvenir of a lesson ... and friendship.
"They show that you survived,"
Ansel replied, "so yes, I do."
* * *
Notes:
See the barn cat with her three kittens.
The tomcat is Mountaintop.
"Never So Pretty"
[Wednesday, June 10, 2015]
Ansel always enjoyed
visiting his family farm.
Today the rolling hills
were velvet green under
the golden summer sun.
Turq accompanied him,
nose frisking the air
for any information.
They had arranged
for Turq's cohort
to come out here;
the fresh air and sun
were good for them.
Nebuly and Saffron were
easy enough to invite, and
they'd finally gotten Tyria too.
The supercats were coming
as well, curious to meet
Norma Jean's farm cats.
Well, that ought to be interesting.
Ansel hugged his grandparents
as soon as he arrived, with
Turq following just behind.
"Thank you for having us
here today," he told them.
"You're always welcome,
dear," said Norma Jean.
"It's always good to see
you again," said Conrad.
Tyria was already ensconced
on the front porch, her hands
curled around a glass of iced tea.
Nebuly sat beside her, his feet
slowly moving the white porch swing.
Saffron had a rocking chair to herself,
reminding her not to rub against people,
or at least not while in human form.
The supercats were perched on
the edge of the porch, watching
everything all around them.
Mrrhow the Mercurial stood out
as bright white as the pillars, but
Cayenne and Napoleon blended
into the rich red-brown wood.
"Change if you like," Turq invited.
"The farm smells so exciting!"
He flowed into his caney form, and
then ran in circles sniffing everything.
Laughing, Nebuly abandoned
his seat on the swing to join Turq
as the blue tricolor border collie
known as Merle. He was mostly
black-spotted gray with a white belly
and bits of tan blushing his cheeks.
"Don't mind if I do," Tyria said,
jumping down as the purple cat
that Chulli had named Padma.
Saffron was slower to respond,
but eventually she shifted into
her felydd form, which was sort of
a cat-fox blend that had long fur
in shades of yellow and peach.
"Shall we go visit the farm cats?"
said Norma Jean. "They like
to hang out in the barns."
The barns were cozy and
always full of mice, of course
the farm cats loved them.
"I'm game," Conrad said,
stepping down from the porch.
The supercats bounded after him.
"Watch your feet," Ansel warned.
"The supercats are all full of ginger."
As they walked, all three of them
twined around their ankles,
trying to trip everyone.
Ansel and Turq were
used to this dance.
Cayenne swerved
in front of Ansel, and
he stepped on her tail,
making her screech.
"Sorry," he said.
"Watch yourself!"
Napoleon seemed
more inclined to try
annoying Conrad.
Mrrhow in particular
stuck close to Saffron,
leaping over her and
crawling under her and
rubbing everywhere.
Whatever she had to say,
she was saying it in Cat.
Then again, maybe
it was as simple as,
I'm here, you're here
too, be here now.
In the barn, they found
a cat with three kittens who
looked about two months old.
Two of them were black-and-white --
one with a black nose, the other
with a white nose -- while the third
was brown-and-white like her mother.
All of them had big round heads
and observant gazes that suggested
intelligence, at least above average
for cats, though not human range.
Tyria stepped forward and
delicately sniffed noses
with the mother cat.
Saffron didn't risk it,
but instead explored
a stack of straw bales,
her golden coat blending in.
Mrrhow followed behind her,
long white tail waving gently,
more visible in the shadows.
Cayenne and Napoleon
dashed away into the barn.
"Well, there goes trouble,"
Ansel muttered. "Should I
go after them, do you think?"
"Naw, let 'em learn for
themselves," said Conrad.
Nebuly resumed human form
and sat on the straw bales,
leaning back against the wall.
Turq shifted to sit with him.
"I love your barn," Nebuly said.
"It feels so peaceful here."
"Ayup," said Conrad. "That is
why Norma Jean in her wisdom
bought this place for me."
Nebuly looked up at him.
"Really?" he said softly.
"Did ... did it work, then?"
"It did for me, and it has for
others since," said Conrad.
"It takes time, but it does work."
"I figured Conrad needed a place
where he could spend plenty of time
in nature, and do work that mattered,
but at a slower pace than townfolks
tend to demand," said Norma Jean.
"Come out any time," Conrad offered.
"We've always got a shoulder to cry on,
food to eat, work to do -- whatever
you need in the moment."
"Thanks," said Nebuly.
"I'll think about that."
"I've come here before,
and I like it a lot," said Turq.
"It helps me feel calmer."
"I can see why," Nebuly said.
One hand stroked the straw.
Suddenly the air shredded
with the sounds of a cat fight.
Cayenne tore out of the barn,
then came Napoleon, chased
by a cat half again his size.
Squalling, Napoleon tried
to hide behind Ansel, only
for the bigger cat to start
chasing him in circles.
"Mountaintop, you leave
that fool cat alone now,"
Norma Jean scolded.
The huge tomcat gave
one last growl and then
stalked back to his turf,
his tail held stiff and high.
"Shouldn't have messed
with the tomcat," Conrad said.
Napoleon gave a mournful yowl
and pawed at his bloody nose.
"Guess you ain't as smart as you
think you are," Norma Jean said,
and went to fetch the first aid kit.
Both girls had turned back to
their human forms by then.
Saffron was sniffling and
Tyria was trying to comfort her.
"Nothing that can't be mended,"
Ansel said. "Napoleon will be
fine once Norma Jean's done."
"One is never so pretty after
being mended," Saffron said softly.
Well ... Turq wasn't the only one
who came out of the compound
with a mess of scars on him.
"I think you were never so pretty
as you are now," Tyria said.
"You're free, Saffron, and that's
the most beautiful thing of all."
"What she said," Ansel echoed.
"Even Napoleon is free to make
his own mistakes, and learn from
them ... or not, that's up to him."
From the look of Napoleon,
he probably had learned not
to pick a fight with someone
so much bigger than him.
Eh, time would tell.
Norma Jean returned
with the first aid kit.
"Napoleon, be good,"
Ansel said. "If you scratch
my grandmother, then you're
getting a bath, with shampoo."
Napoleon didn't say anything,
but did flatten himself on the floor,
and stayed still until his poor nose
had been cleaned and patched up.
Turq and his cohort just watched,
which was more than Ansel
would have hoped for.
Maybe, just maybe, some
of what they had survived
could be healed too. In time.
They all walked back to the house,
a little more bedraggled, perhaps wiser.
Mrrhow the Mercurial rode atop
Saffron's shoulder, purring comfort.
Turq rubbed his wrist as they walked,
the long mess of striationary scars
clearly visible since he was wearing
short sleeves in the summer heat.
"You're never so pretty too, Turq,
scars and all," Ansel murmured,
grateful to Tyria for the phrasing.
"You really think so?" Turq said.
"I mean, I'm still kind of a mess."
Ansel touched the handprint scar
that wrapped around his own wrist.
He wouldn't trade that for anything,
souvenir of a lesson ... and friendship.
"They show that you survived,"
Ansel replied, "so yes, I do."
* * *
Notes:
See the barn cat with her three kittens.
The tomcat is Mountaintop.