As Big Tom soaks up morning sun
Mathilda flirts with everyone
Miss Kitty likes her milk from May
While Sandra's Minnie 'gets her way'
Youg Archie: bound to cause a stir
And Hector: rarely did he purr
But Flashy - he's much like our Son
Big boy entrances everyone
So on this morn - as felines trod
Salute the cats of Westbank Quad!

Father, I remember
Back when I was in the kindergarten
Back when I used to ride your back

I remember filling my timidly tender hands,
With a handful of love for you
And today,
I see my hands empty,
With my emptied hands,
And your eyes filled,
I realize, that I have grown different,
From you

Death,
So cruel,
So kind,
Has taken my worries away;
The ones I wished would stay;
Worries, just memories.
I was left with my three,
So they obliged,
Now worries number five.
We know how worries grow,
They start so small, no worry at all,
Then they start to crawl.
We beget,
From their outset,
Worry.

Silently,
Quietly,
I awaken to the world that surrounds me,
Ripped from my dreams,
Not sure what has woken me.
I feel a tiny hand on my arm,
A foot in my rib cage,
These days are numbered,
I know it won't last long.
Already ten and nine,
Where has this decade gone...
I stay quiet a bit longer,
And think of these years past,
There is so much I don't want to ever forget,
I hope my brain remembers it all,
But I find it already getting foggy,
Making way for more memories.
I love them like no other,
They are the best of us,
Thank God.

"Just five minutes more" is the cry.
Playtime has been interrupted by the familiar "hurry up."
Vocabulary common to every parent:
"You've had ten more already. Time to get out."

Why do they insist? My needs never win the battle.
Why is my fun spoilt with this never ending list of demands?
"Oh, it's not fair" is yelled in anguish and responded to by further rebuke.
The severity of consequence based on their ambiguous countdown is increasing;
a thread of the "Thinking Spot" will no doubt soon follow.

A few grumbles are followed by silent protest,
albeit underpinned with a threat of childish tantrum.
It's time for the family meal and this standoff has but one resolution.
Isolated relaxation time is over.

The timetable of the young child at the door demands no less;
the parent must vacate their ten minute bath.

When they are born
it's hard to know
what your children will grow
up to become

The sad fact
for some parents;
their children will grow up to be ****.

Nasty little cowards
who swan around
a tiny town
and pretend to be Ronnie Cray.

Perverted ****** predators
who creep around the beach
on a beautiful hot sunny day.

******* little waste men - waste of *****
who think they run the place
then throw pathetic insults
when you stand up to their face.

They might be from a broken home,
I do try to see the best
But their father would have done us a favor
if he came on their mum's chest.

So when I become a father,
I don't want a rude little runt.
I hope that it's happy, hope that it's healthy
and I hope that my kid's not a ****.

your touch
your love
the laughter
we share
feels safe

I will not take a bite,
Unless all buffalo can sing!
I wont nibble a piece,
Unless I meet a spoon named Ching!
I refuse to eat this stuff
Unless you fly me to the moon,
In a black and silver limo
Before the clock strikes noon!
Unless you preform the impossible
Though I would't hold my breathe...
I will not eat these veggies,
I would rather starve to death!!!