Mozart Postponed Due To Ants*
It is just the perfect Spring morningthe sky is a shimmering pale blue mirrored on the calm breast of the sea
Mr. Sun is smiling that bright friendly smile made all the nicer after a cold, raw Winter,
so nice it is that Mother decides to pay a visit to the rose beds out in the garden
for a little flute concerto performance, (what shall it be Mozart, Haydn? On a sunny morning with a southerly breeze blowing over the sea right into her garden Lizt may suffice) for her favourite plant audience.
Mother opens the kitchen door to feel the air upon her skin a moment, the very moment that her superannuated but still absurdly spry cat Gregory Ianovitch decides to leap across the room and run out towards the garden, oh well Mother will soon be joining Gregory in the great outdoors let him go have his fun.
As soon as the door is shut a fingernails on the blackboard level caterwauling breaks out from just beyond the closed door. Of course it's the Cossack wildcat wanting right back inside again!
Mother reopens the door to find Gregory furiously batting his paws at a line of small black insect creatures that are attempting to cross the threshold and gain entrance to the kitchen. "Ants!" Mother shrieks in her well modulated musical voice, but never the less shriek she does.
Now, you must understand, Mother believes that ants and insects in general have a place in creation, however that place does not happen to extend to the sanctorum of her well appointed and tastefully decorated kitchen where marauding ant hordes clash awfully with the fleur-de-lis and artichokes motif.
Mother takes a large can marked with a grinning skull and a huge XXX from it's ceremonial sacistry in the kitchen broom closet and advances upon the uninvited invading Lilliputian army.
At her approach wily old veteran that he is Gregory recognizes the determination in that dire dreadnaught tread, abandons the front lines of battle, quickly shakes a few dozen badly mangled and altogether deceased foe from his weapon/paw and retreats to his food and water bowl in a kitchen corner.
In addition to the can of bug terminator she is holding Mother has also donned a gasmask which would not appear inappropriate tactical wear upon a third world battleground anywhere on the planet.
There is a manic gleam in her eye as she prepares to visit doom upon the lines of minute invading Huns. Mozart and company would just have to wait, it's time for some Wagner!
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2014-03-13 at 20:24
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