Myth & Moor update
Tunes for a Tuesday Morning

The Dog's Tale

Tilly plots to be the first Canine Poet LaureateThe Dog's Tales: a series of posts in which Tilly has her say...

We're supposed to be out of the office during this holiday weekend, but I've snuck back in while my People aren't looking so I can write up my Saturday post. My paws are a little clumsy, but if I sit up like a Person, I can just about manage the computer by myself. My post today is my first piece of canine poetry:

Ode to the Neighbor's Cats

Thou still unravish'd demons of fur,
      Thou taunting creatures of tooth and tail,
As brazen beasts as e'er there were
      Whilst over garden wall do sail:
What evil does thou plot today
      To taunt a brave and noble dog
Who's honor bound to chase away
      All cats who set foot in this yard?
 What beasts are these, half Siamese?
      What mad pursuit? What fleet escape?
What howls and barks? What wild ecstasies...


But wait, but wait...what's this?

The Path on Nattadon Not Taken

Oh no! I hear my People coming!

The Path on Nattadon Not Taken

Quick! Turn the computer off!


"Me? What am I doing? Uh...nothing."

Dog Howl

"Just sitting here chewing my bone...."

P.S. There are more of my poems hidden in the picture captions. Just run your cursor over them. Love, Tilly


Love it! And the captions are marvelous!

Dear Tilly
It's fine poetry...really quite fine, almost feline. i mean you have a keen eye for the way of the cat. You can count on me not to betray your secret, by the way, and I do hope you continue to post whenever you can.

Tilly, you had me with Keats, but by the time I got to Kipling and Alan Ginsberg in the picture captions I was weeping with laughter. You are a marvelous dog.

Molly is very envious of your sheepskin sofa. She herself only has plain cushions that need a lot of rearranging every time she wants a nap and then the waiting before one of the people picks them up from the floor!

The dog version of Howl is priceless.

Just wondering who the dog amanuensis is: you or Howard.

The idea of a dog version of HOWL (so aptly named for a dog poem of course) had me howling.


Damn, I'm reading this on my phone today and won't be able to see the picture captions until I'm on a computer again on Monday, there's no way to make them pop up on my phone. But the pictures and post alone are pretty great. What a talented dog you are Tilly.

From Philip Christopher Marlowe, Cat:

My person finds you charming
Makes comments about your
Wistful eyes, your sleek black fur,
How doggy, how disarming.

I am too subtle for open rage
I bide my time and secretly sneer,
How dare you beguile my dear
LIke a prancing charmer, on a stage?

Secretly I long to hiss and bat
The screen where you recline
Big eyes, hiding behind a vine
In woods not available to this cat.

I could climb trees, and pose
My golden and white glory
In tangle-woodland story,
Even bravely rescue Briar Rose.

But here on the forth floor
Sunlit and warm, I pout and sneer
I meow out, with sorrow and fear,
Is it not me that you adore?

My person, I mean. Not you, Tilly.
Oh no, she's here, and sees my lament.
With a twinkle and wink, I now scent
Her laugh, Marlowe, so silly.

Tilly you are so far away
My person says, and Marlowe,
Right here. Thus we know
Love blooms for all in Magic May.

So Tilly all Myth and Moor,
And Marlowe all aery and golden
May in magic air, embolden
What tales, and tails and more.

Oh I laughed & laughed! Bravo Tilly!

Tilly says to tell Christopher Marlowe that she loves his poem.

That would be telling....

Dear Tilly, my name is Honey and Bri Saussy is my pet. I just wanted to write and tell you how much I appreciated your well wrought poem about those terrible whiskered beasts our people insist on calling "cats" but that we know to be demons whose only mission is to taunt and tease us until we have slobbered all over ourselves-I wish you much luck in the hunt and in protecting your territory from the wee beasts' taunts and teasing!

"Aaw, mrow...that's sweet, Tilly," meowed P. C. Marlowe.

Oh! We Person and Me, forgot about the messages hidden like long scripts in fortune
cookies. We read and fell to the floor laughing hysterically, got up again, and hugged. Tilly rocks.
Yr New Admirer,
P. C. Marlowe

I wandered lonely as a hound
That gloats on high o'er meat and meals,
When all at once I saw a mound
That to doggy appetites appeal.
In the bowl, on the ground,
It made my tongue lick round and round.

With profound apologies to Wordsworth for this 'doggerel'

Tilly approves! (She's thumping her tail.)

If dogs could blush, Tilly would be blushing.

Thanks, Tilly. Your approval's better than a review in 'The Times'

Dear Tilly,
Please write more! There's a book that I think you would like called 'Stanley's Party' by Linda Bailey. But please, if you get into trouble after reading this book, don't tell Terri I recommended it!

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