A Cat’s tale

 The cataclysm of Catholicism

Is they did not recognize the schism

Until it was too late

and the cat had already been let

out of the bag

The Cathode ray tube made a killing

With the cats and rubes

Who searched for gold in the klondike

Where the wild cats growled up in the mountains

And spilled rivers down cathedral-sized

Chunks of quartz

Oh but a fleck here, and flick there

only constitutes a smattering of gold

But is enough to send cations screaming

Across electrode gaps in test tubes

Of the prospecting cat

This could be the catalyst he thinks to himself

Of a great change in my life

In which I become a fat cat, a millionaire

And strike it rich in the Yukon valley

But he didn't have cat in hell's chance really

Still that never stopped him dreaming

This cool cat, with the whiskers like steel

That bristle whenever someone mentions a meal

Or a plate of gold, or a mother lode

That is hidden under the hill

 

Catatonic now in the biting cold

Shivering in his steel shack

That has but one cat flap frozen shut

No chance of attack

By roving wolf packs or mountain lions

bearing teeth and swishing tails

When somewhere down in a southern state

The cattle are trailing along a lush green path

And the cat laughs, thinking of that

Then caterwauling he guffaws

And throws off his cape

The biting wind nips his nape

But he preens himself wide awake

And shakes off the sleep

 

Of all the catastrophic avalanches that could befall him now

He thinks not one bit, doesn't even wink

Instead takes a sniff of his catnip, and pip-pip, tootle-loo

He's off again into the wild blue

Yonder

The mountain peaks in wonder

He spies through cat's eyes closed as slits

To the snow in the sky

But then wide and dazzling bright in surprise

As he wanders over the old claims he has staked

The light snow fall is but falling in flakes

And the above the White river, he sees

The quartz that makes him shiver

And a thrill runs up his spine

And he is over come with joy

and catapults down the line

With his shovel and his pick

And in the hard rock he begins to dig

Deeper down and further still

Until he thinks he might need a drill

Then six feet under he reaches down

And follows the vein

That runs through the ground

Into a tiny nugget he holds in his claw

But these are but the hors d'oeuvres

Not yet the main course

Yet after only a little more time

That golden sunrise begins to shine

And his face is like a morning glow

As he is lifting up the huge mother lode

Yet behind him a shadow shifts

Is it cloudburst or another grift

Out to steal what he did not earn

Another cat burglar out to crash and burn

 

A bullet flies like a silver bird

And hits our cat with crash and purr

Cat falls flat and doesn't stir

Struck in the back by cuckoo cur

And down slinks the burglar

Into the pit, salivating like a dog

Dribbling spit, hungry for the gold

that is like a disease

And in his fervour and desire to seize

He forgets to check our cat is dead

And swift as a pigeon a pickaxe to the head

The burglar is down in the ground bleeding red

And cat with the mother lode climbs free from the grave

The hole is through his fur coat, but his organs are saved

Back on up to his shack he rolls 

Singing to the birds his cat carols

And happy as a cat who has got the cream

He retired back down where the meercats dream

A Father's Day walk

Flocking crows down near Northload farm
Look and see a house on a hump
Tractors unload in yard or road
Like a yarn on a story spool
Hammers thump, thump
Starlings stall in midair
And fall, turn and bump
As flies buzz, buzz
Earwigs lug their prey
back to the rotten stump

Otter's little travel bristles
Through divided clump
The grass festooned
In the month of June
With seeds ready to jump

The old bridge tumbles into ruins
As days now pass us by
But the rhyne is green
With days unseen
No this is no day to die

Little green finch play on
limbs of skeletal Elm
And songs are sung by
Birds so long as sailors
Hang on to the helm

Clover fields are purple meals
For bees that suck at their flowers
And tea leaf docks
That spoil in cream shocks
Of clover patch powers

And the house rises up
On the high ground
The Doomsday Book once wrote
As safe on the island from
Avaricious eyes and only
Reached by boat

Now the house in ruins
Where periwinkles blossom
Brambles curl the Elder's bosom
Kingfishers cast their regal eyes
Down the stream
Of the sleeper bridge's dream
And the voices gurgle and gargle
Beneath, while
Above the butterflies float

The wool of sheep is cast about
Is strewn about the pen
Rusted troughs lie
Like a milk maids cry
Of the lambs many
begotten
Begotten, begotten
But not forgotten
This ruin on sacred Doomsday land
Saved by King William's hand
This ancient house still stands
Like a relic of old England

Elders have reclaimed most of it
Its roof collapsed long ago
The limestone bricks and mortar
Make up its end walls
Just a shell on this sea wrecked land
Just a cockle on the shore
Whispering to the wind
A home for nettles and starfish
And a collection of tumbleweed wool

Some how it is fitting
Somehow the fish just bite,
The green grass grows
Where cuckoos call, and the crows
black as night stare
As the clouds roll in so tight

Now the sea gulls cut fast
Like a scythe, the wind around
This summer island
And we say goodbye
To the feather and the sky
That rolls like a blue robin egg
Around them

Look what the cat dragged in

You come here looking like that
With your head a square, and your hair not flat
Just look, listen, purr at that
Look what the cat dragged in

Oh pussy cat purr in the dark garden air
Walking about with that 50 yard stare
Eyes like yellow diamonds twinkling bright
Calling out for a taxi to take you through the night
Look what the cat dragged in

You stalk the streets with your pussy cat airs
Gracing the pavements with your hippy flares
Tucked under your arm
There's a broadsheet there
Exclaiming the charm of your male heirs
Look what the cat dragged in

Dog like a lady, Cat like a tramp
Pissing on the sidewalk, turned into a vamp
Bite the necks of strangers then order a stamp
Posting off your letters to the royal ramp
And look what the cat dragged in

What do you have to dismiss about you
Your shoulder is colder, your lips turning blue
Pull in your stomach, suck in the cool air
Nothings getting older, except your grey hair
But look what the cat dragged in

Fall back in line, like tomorrows spine
Is broken on the back of today
We all cross the line, but this time it was fine
Just don't let the habit stay, check in the mirror ok?
Look what the cat dragged in

Ocean's eleven -or Rhyme of the ancient mariner Revisited

I set off for eleven oceans

After I'd sailed seven seas

Four more I could not fail

I thought it would be a breeze

I was a lonesome vagabond

in search of riches, tourism and drink

But on that eleventh ocean

was where my ship did sink

A-drowning I was ship-wrecked

my raft it was marooned

upon the shore of a far off Isle

by a whale I had Harpooned

For where is this poor countree

that ye have towed me to?

He said well lonesome vagabond

I've towed ye to Peru

Peru I said and startled up

Where canst a man walk home?

Neigh dear lonesome Mariner

For too far have ye now roamed

But Lo what Majestic sky turned out

When I did turn me Head

For Heaven displayed a plethora of stars

One if followed must home me led

To orient I fixed the whale

Again out on the ocean

And told him hence to beat his tail

And thus from this dark Isle we shall give motion

And so on the crew of one did wend

It's starlit toiling passion

For the sea was as green as a wild monster

Calling my heart's courage to ration

Never a boat had thus put sail

Upon these treacherous seas

Nor chart or map to orient

Our pathless way to ease

We journeyed on without rainfall,

Our mouths were parched as sands

And the rats which fled from my raft

The searing heat they could not stand

Then to me appeared a visage of a friend

One I had known but now long lost

A man I had betrayed in love

And now before me visited his ghost

Accusing eyes they pierced me

And cut me to the quick

That I should live, while he had died

No candle burns a faster wick

Then flames in cohorts filled the scene

And seemed to set a light the timber

And in each flame a visage appeared

Of a man who was my crew member

They called to me and cried still worse

Why have you forsaken your brothers?

Because your life and his were tied together

Now his death will be your curse

So, on I fled, crying “take me away from this guilt”

And soon from the air came a wandering dove

The evil which gave voice to these spirits

Had been dissolved by a face of love

The mermaid (dove?) joined my vessel and led the

Whale towards dark cliffs,

“It is land “I cried

And so grateful was I

That no line written could tell of my bliss

Thank you said I, but then down had he died

Exhausted upon the deck

My future still lay in the balance, so for luck

I wore the bird around my neck

The Island was old and grey from a distance

But with speed became more familiar

It was the very spot I had sailed from

In June fifteen long years past clear

The wedding guests had arrived and there

I went with upmost haste

Now to you I regale my tale

Of eleven ocean's to which I lay waste

It's a backwards world

Dreamt of seeing a fox swimming
Then it became a cat, then it got out
Then a fox chasing a cat, and then it was a cat with a dog in its mouth it had caught
But it was still alive apparently underwater
The fox was duped by a chicken
Who had become the sliest of farmyard animals
Convening in corners
Brewing up schemes
Running cartels like the Mafia

Nothing seems to make sense anymore

Cats chase dogs
Cats like swimming
So much that the English Channel
Is full of them doing breast stroke

Dogs hang about on fences and walls
Balancing carefully
Or sunning themselves on window sills

The world is backwards
The birds are rowing in fishing boats
And the fish are flying above in the clouds

Moths tuck themselves up in bed at night
Catholics never have any guilt


Sheep chase wolves through the forest
Ferocious sheep stalk the hills

And Shepherds wear armour to protect
Themselves

Cats chase off Tigers

Wolves are family pets
Lions are nannies
And children keep sharks
In fish tanks

Children are in charge
Little Napoleons
And Churchills
And the politicians are in the play pens
Tossing about  hundred dollar Euro bills

The world is upside down

Back to front

Like a turtle with its shell
On the inside

The soul has hardened
The flesh is soft
Tree leaves grow to the shadows
And the roots sprout nuts

Buildings are falling over
And what lies down
Stands bolt upright

The Mountains melt like butter
In the morning sunlight

And Oceans freeze over
Where the camels now tread
While the deserts fill with water
Asleep in ruined cities
That were never made

On the tides

All the alimony that we owe
To be phony if you know
Call the kettle black
Its boiling over at the back
Snake and wind, through the vines
Where I hear you ring
Who brought up the proposition
Like a childish kind of thing?

That was then and this is now
The golden goose and sacred cow
Both turned loose from the stable whose
Horse has bolted like a flying sow

Just immediately the truth was known
Like a hoof crushing a bone
Like jelly blackcurrant lake
That shakes in visions of my mistake

For the rest is yet unwritten
As the swallow flies so the bittern
Stares his snout to the sky
And asks again why he is shy

The toad in the hole

The toad crawled into the hole
Deep in the coal
He went down the mine
Out of the sunshine
Just to recline

But for a thousand years he slept
Like sleeping beauty
Oh what a cuty
But ugly

After this time
Such a crime
The Earth was finally eaten by the sun
It got so hot
That chaos ensued
Asteroids tumbled
Meteors flew

And a rock the size
Of Manhattan grew
In the telescopes of the brave last few
Which spelt out armagheddon

When this did happen
Much of Earth was flattened
And the face of the earth grew a frown
The other side
Which faced out to space
Was shot clean out like a crown

Now in the meantime
Old toady was sleeping
Such a deep slumber
He did not hear the thunder
Nor rending of rock
Nor the earthquake shock

But finally he stirred
And began to want to go outdoors
Only to find no escape by his paws

The dark coal face was not much companion
But if only he knew he was in space
He would much have preferred its abandon
Than to instant oblivion

So he waited it out
And he waited, and he waited
Until as if it was fated
His rock touched down with a crunch
Onto a new planet, just before lunch

Needing some breakfast
The toad packed a punch
Of several G
But at least
At long last he was free

A crack appeared through the cold rock
And a strange blue light
Shone down in a shock
His path opened up
So he climbed out of doors
Following the blue shimmer
As effect follows cause

Onto the funny, sandy, yellow surface
That wobbled like jelly
Under the cold coal face
The horizon looked like
a labyrinth's spectacle
He was spell bound by the perfection
and by a large obelisk receptacle

Just knowing he was the only one here
It occurred to him he was still living - what a miracle
Against all odds, on a floating sod of earth
A mere toad who had trod, an uneventful road
Became perhaps the last remaining earthling
In the whole sky of stars that were twinkling

What must his family think, were they proud?
Perhaps...the question fell silent
although in his mind it was loud
Where are they now? and for that matter
Where was he?

As far as he could see
This planet must be free of all life
The next thing he thought
Was that he ought'a find some water
So off on a hike
This son of a pike set
It was not long before he met
Another monolith sort of cliff
Then he saw a fountain pour from a rock
Just as in a water-closet when someone pulls out the cock

It looked fairly strange
But then he re-arranged
The fragments in a kaleidoscopic sky
The clouds that looked metallic began to cry
And their purple rain
Fell on his brain
Until he thought he might die

From a far off field a strange dark shape lurked
It was in the guise of a hovering wraith
And with a quick jerk, he turned
To see himself returned to the rock
Which to him had given birth

The wraith was outside in the cold swollen sky
Waiting for someone to speak with him
Just then a passing fairy happened to land upon the dairy
Of the black lead cows who were happy with good mirth

Our hero exclaimed, Mighty Fred I am named
And let spill his story of Earth
A quiet long time passed after his words
Had been gassed
And he thought perhaps the Wraith had gone home

"Well can't you explain", said the Wraith with no name
"Why on Earth you chose my planet to land on?"
"No I cannot, by Saturn's rings, provide you with those things
I have no reasons why for my rhyme
I am a toad, stepped out of time
From an age of strong sunshine
To this strange planet of metallic worth"

Just as the toad was speaking
The purple rain which had been piquing
His mirth, gave some kind of birth
To a black beast which within him had been sleeping
Suddenly he grew, like mountains from a shoe
Many feet in foot hills, those that don't measure mole hills
And whole-heartedly he knew that he was new

What stood before the wraith now
Was a Black Prince that was leaden like the cow
And it proved that indeed from small things may come surprises
And if sleeping beauty slept
This was something she even did not expect
Since the toad's ugliness was not kept
He was no longer an earthly reject
But a Prince among the Wraiths of the Galactic Bowl
Then again this was the story of the Toad in the hole

Hair of the Dog

I badgered a rabbit
Who was rabbiting on
He was dogging a hare
Whose hair had all gone
But he took the hair of the dog
When he sang his swan song
I soon met an otter who was beavering away
He was playing in the reeds
While I was reading a play
And an owl was hooting
Calling to his mate
His mate was shooting
Pellets at a plate
And the Platypus lay
Asleep in the hay
Full of nature's platitudes
In a latitudinal way



I went on a speed date with a ray of light
She was fast and loose
And waved me good night
But in a particle way so she had an excuse

Approaching the speed of light
It became horribly obtuse
As if all my energy were matter
Time itself seemed to slow to a stop
My mental processes worked with the speed of a mop
I think my impression not a good one
My mind in confusion
And like Icarus
I never had
The Sun on the run

Two crash test dummies were on a speed date
It was important they broke the speed limit
When they broke the ice
Unfortunately, she broke her neck
And he lost his eyes
But he thought, what the heck!
Another date tomorrow night?
She just played dum
By which she meant - Why not Hun?
You only live twice.

The Battle of Ham Wall, or alternative places

Ham wall was an ancient pig battlefield. For years wild hogs had crossed tusks on this flat leafless plain. They fought over the one enormous oak that provided acorns for the winning tribe of pigs.

            However, after the great battle of Catcott moor one side, the Curly Whirlies, lost and retreated down onto this more easterly plot. Upon doing this they discovered the Oak tree and so in order to defend this they built an enormously long security wall of peat. Because the wild hogs guarded it through little windows at certain points it then became known as Ham wall.

            The Victorious tribe of Halalumi then made their offensive, because scratching around for bare bones had gone on long enough, they needed and wanted acorns. King Hal ordered the Ham wall that had now dried out over some years, to be torched. The dry summer of the arson and the surprise nature of the attack left the Curly Whirlies frying like bacon and unfortunately crackling too. All that remained was a scar of ashen ground, tusks and pork chops lying hither and tither. The odour of cooked pork and burnt offerings was not to leave the marsh for fifty years. 

Selections

ermine

The fox

The fox stalked across the field in the late afternoon light

A ragged and thread bare specimen, ravaged from the cruel cold winter

That lengthened into February

He stops looks round searchingly

Yet distracted, somehow fidgeting with his own dire experience

His own state of affairs

My mother points out the starlings swooping above him as they ready to roost

Among the levels further down along the reeds

The fox moves sleekly, slinking like a chain of bones concertinaing

And then squats to lay his scent or shit

I have almost lost interest as he becomes the grey of sky, the brown and pale yellows of winter hedgerows

May be he was the fox that ate our chickens I say to my mother

All those years ago

He is an intruder, yet somehow respected for his cleverness despite this. And I feel somehow very safe and sanitized in this my mother’s house but seeing him also vulnerable. Like seeing a thief from behind the confines of a ‘CCTV’ camera – catching him in the act. It is the interest in his survival, his spirit and hut spa. Confidence in wildness, somehow he will always be there, in the back of your mind.

Otter

Otter sleek, Minky whale black

Bitter as beer, the coal black water

Mirrors as obsidian

This corpuscular form

Meiosis divided itself

From the jelly mass of the lake

Yet never breaking the meniscus

- it bobs it's whiskers appear damp

And shining

Back rises and slinks back into the black

Great Breech Wood

I went to walk in Great Breech wood

And found myself where trees abound

The North wind blew between dead twigs

And curled the leaves that lay on the ground

My nose it twitched, my ears they itched

I felt the presence of deer and hounds

I saw a squirrel run to a trees furthest reach

And heard the forest birds song of sound

The nettles stung, the beeches browned

The Oaks were strengthened by the ground

The leaves curled in the winter furls

That twirled the wind and around me wound

And my love did call from beneath an ash’s eves

Like a satellite I was drawn to its planetary crown

Then Great breach wood was torn asunder

It gave forth lumber of Larch and pine

All of it under a winter storms thunder

Which rattled the bones of all those near

Their toppling heights and treacherous climbs

My dear lady was struck by a bolt of lightening

A love dart from the Gods struck her in her prime

And the planetary dark that ensued was a wonder

To walk in this park I felt was a crime

My romantic soul wished to lurch in search of a number

By which I could dial then bring back the time

But the forest which was wiser than mountains

Held my soul fast so alone I did climb

To birth the last hope I had of my loved one

And set her soul free her one God to find

Now alone I walked through the forest alive

Badgers scurried like bank clerks collecting

Their wad of twigs and worms like knives

The wood pecker sung the pigeon cooed

A single black bird alone mewed

And rats slumbered beneath

Rotting tree limbs

As foxes cavorted singing howling hymns

Then the forest was then quiet as a graveyard hushed

As greenery flourished

And foliage lushed

The sandal wearing saint was knighted

The night began its game

Half housed between this world and the next

Advantaged

As in the eves called the owls

And many Stations of the Cross were planted

As herbs and forest plants were avowed

Into sacred celebration

Of the moon lit majestic cows (boughs)

Who’s alien forms besmirched the landscape

And past the night with heavy sounds

Until in the dawn rose the single starlings

In the flock of chorus loud

And beneath the canopy of heaven

Wrote the names of those in shroud

To be remembered by the martyrs

Who had seen and died,

And lived then bowed

And this I saw while I was walking

All this was mine of to be most proud

Inside the Breech of the Great Wood Vaunting

And opened its vaults to the sun and the cloud

The Garden Stroll

In the early light

When witches candles turn low to smite

The earthly walkers on a stroll

Beside an ancient garden wall

Then one says to the other

“How strange!?

The brick work of Eden has been rearranged.”

As they ponder mortar and stone

They feel the feeling they aren’t alone

Then an archway becomes clear

Designated this way; ”Do not Enter Here!”

They hold hands then cross the threshold

Into a garden bright and so bold

The green’s of willow

The lush of Ash

Oaken avenues stand in stash

All look starkly like someone’s preserve

They feel darkly like they do not deserve

And then a hare and next a rabbit

Come by close as if by habit

Disarmed the intruders are quite standoffish

Then they realise they appear quite selfish

And pet and talk kind words to the mammals

Feeling next they may meet some camels

As they stand and pervade the view

The garden’s paradise changes hue

And far over a foreign hill

They see Cain fight Able, until one is killed

And open under heaven’s skies

They see rains fall and flooded lies

Noah’s Ark is there by chance

But many a bad creature takes death’s dance

And suddenly they too are running from the flood

By this they find the ties of water

Much stronger than those of blood

All washed up now on heaven’s shore

They think of their stroll to the garden’s core

And they think to themselves, but neither comment

They should not walk in wherever they wanted

Sing oh Lord

Sing oh Lord to the moon and the sky

To the land of the Blind

Where the pity birds fly

And bees buzz merry like the fruits and the flies

In the land where the pity birds fly

Sing oh Lord to the ones who have many

And the ones who are lost

But have not crossed on the ferry

Sing oh Lord to the Queen of the sky

To the Land where the pity birds fly

Hear their song, like a balm on the cherry

Like a sweet salve to the unchained mind

Hear oh lord how they sing you a tune

In the land where the pity birds festoon

Hear oh lord how their hearts are not heavy

With the price of their lives or the hanging moon

Hear oh Lord just what they may stir

In the land where the pity birds flew

Duck Pond

Deep in the duck pond

Where the green weed grows

And the straw is yellow

Next to the track,

Where the ivy creeps beneath the Alder and Willow

Which brush their stems and stem their flow back

Deep in the duck pond

Where the green weed grows

Ducks fight and splash about

It could be a war or a turn about

Or a pair of lovers in a spate

One who loves, the other who hates

But deep in the duck pond

They see to their deed

Where the willow weeps in the green duck weed

Down in the duck pond,

Where fellows blow their horn

And the little spirited sprout

Sings for the sweet summer corn

While the West wind blows

Then across it the Easterly is torn

All along the deep duck pond

Where all the birds were born

Severed heads on severed spikes

All seem dead but go ask the tyke

Shadows shake in the shallows like

The deep duck pond

Of the bad old Pike

He swims about, he asks not twice

He sees a snout, then snaps his vice

And there he has you, pulls you down

Into the depths of the duck pond to drown

Where hell is a spirit on the water

And the wind chills the slender necks of swans

And the rails with the moor hens daughter

Falls to the pails and the sweet shorn sun

Where the kale sways in the shallows

And the bulrushes blow their seed

Deep as heartache over the water

Of the deep duck pond with the green duck weed

Larry of the Levels

Lazarus and the silver spy of the Levels

            The travellers’ tale began when The Voice of The Wind said to Eliza the forces of Stink the Mink will be wiped out when the ring of roses has been brought to the floor of reeds. Eliza Wood was a blind spider who webbed prophetic messages across tow paths, gate ways in hedgerows etc where they would be seen, by interested animals. Business had been going fairly well for Eliza for the past few hundred years but unfortunately he did not see the arrival of the mink coming. The general way of things he believed was that God had made the levels to be paradise and it would continue that way with the odd hiccough for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately the minks introduction proved a bit more than a hiccough in fact it left a very bad taste in the mouth and made a mess of all his prophesies. It used to be his signs read things like 'rejoice for a new dawn is come', and 'consider the Lilly isn't it pretty', then it turned to 'try and be an optimist', 'look on the bright side its not so bad'. In recent years his signs had read more 'the end is nigh', and 'repent your sins you are basically doomed'. His Friend the shield bug, Ralph Bernstein, tried to cheer him up saying its not that bad and at least you aren't an enslaved Rabbit. One day Ralph decided that something had to be done to help the levels and so crawled up to Eliza in his web and said Look Eliza you have to find a prophecy that actually works I can't stand to see you just mopping around like this. Eliza thought for a bit then climbed to the top most quarter of a nearby Scots Pine...and he listened to the wind. It told him there was a golden egg that held the secret of the levels its salvation from the Mink Dominion by Stink. There is a bed of Roses over near Godney at a Garden Centre. And In the Garden centre there is a sad eyed seamstress and she works all day and all night to make Rings of Roses. Unfortunately she doesn't sell many and so is very poor but in amongst the pile of dying rose rings which have been discarded is one magic ring that will not fade or die even unto the end of all time. If this one ring of roses can be brought to the golden egg then a new dawn will reign over the levels one of freedom for all animals except the mink, and will see the end of the cruel King Stink for ever. When Eliza had heard this he climbed down and told his friend Ralph who said - there you go now don't you feel much better now?

Lazarus McDonald had been chosen for this quest by Ralph, acting as a kind of casting director for Eliza Wood. Lazarus was an otter of some promise but had been frittering away his talents for fishing and hunting, by playing gleefully away down rivers and rills at the foot of the Mendips. He had made his living in the past through a number of outrageous schemes. One for instance was working as a bandit -for- hire by making raids on battery hen farms with a few wayward foxes. Another time he spent months lazing about near a fishery finding it a most easy way of life as the fish were practically willing to give themselves up to him. Though all this laziness had bored him and he had become increasingly over weight by his life style so it was a surprise when a tiny but self possessed Shield bug with the self confidence of a Lord of the Manor sidled up to him and recruited him.

Lazarus was standing behind a fence of a garden centre peering into the ring of roses production centre with his comrade Hubert Cherrybatten. Lazarus now upon seeing the stinking pile of dead roses was regretting his decision to join up. But the truth was that all the community of otters on the levels thought him a wastrel and wanted him out of their sight so it was his only option really to join a war party.

In front of him now was what seemed to be an enormous pile of rotting roses. In fact that was exactly what it was. The smell was really awful and there were a lot of flies buzzing around who had evidently laid eggs there. "But why do I have to go in there?" Because, the Brown owl, Hubert Cherrybatten said, you are the chosen one.

” Well it did not say anything about rummaging through rotting compost in the job description.” He protested.

“Stop being such a big girl’s blouse Lazarus McDonald and get in there.” There was something in the serious and stern way the owl pronounced his name that made Lazarus or Lazy Laz to his friends, feel compelled to jump in.

Sarah Sutton, who had made the rose ring, was sitting a way back previously with her back to them but with the scuffling sounds now turned and watched interestedly while an owl squawked at an otter who then proceeded to jump in her compost pile. Stranger things had been known to happen in the Garden Centre it was true, like the time a porthole to another universe opened up and Miss Sutton journeyed instantaneously to the prehistoric town of Clacton on sea bought a shell fish then returned, that had been about four months ago and it didn't involve an owl and an otter on speaking terms. Suddenly she saw the otter emerging black and slimy but with what appeared to be an intact ring of her roses. As unbelievable as this actually sounded the otter then ran off followed by the owl.

            So then the quest to travel across Meare began in earnest. The pair were soon joined by other animals the shield bug had recruited and they all met at the bottom of the lane of a place called Kirlegate and walked beside the gate. There was Samson Matravers the badger, who a fairly dark and difficult to fathom creature. There was Eliza Wood, the prophetic spider, a family of rabbits -Michael and Nancy Robertson and their boys Tony and Ned. A field mouse was there also by the name of Teddy Murdoch.

            To begin with they looked out across the estate of Kirlegate and pondered how to get to the Shapwick heath levels. This was a dark and foreboding place as they stared into its blackness a shiver of instinct which made them very fearful passed through them all. Their wild side kept the animals away from built up areas and so all of them felt a natural mistrust of their surroundings now.

            Lazarus was standing looking at his friends. This was the peoples state of Meare - it was a treacherous road and held many dangers. It was filled with people the good and the bad and had a criminal fraternity who ran a racket and were in with the peat barons, they cared not for the levels wildlife they wanted the mink to prosper because they kept the curious types from snooping in on their dealings and dodgy businesses.

Of the good there were some who stood up for the rights of the wild life but these were a precious few and their will to fight was crushed by the continual progress of the peat barons - unstoppable it seemed under law.

            Their enemy were the Mink and their leader King Stink the Mink. His tribe haunts the levels and besets its population with terror and destruction. The mink had already covered much of the levels, and had bred and bred. They were also greedy for wealth and power and had dug up much of the peat in order to sell it off to the people who lived nearby. The levels had practically become a city built of peat and filled with mink. In the middle of all this was Stink’s castle which stood set out alone in the bogs and lakes. It was an impregnable fortress built of peat, reeds and bird feathers all stuck together with fishy glue.

            The mink in their desire to conquer the levels had eaten many of the birds and wiped out many types of wild life. They had cut down trees fouled the landscape killed off small shrubs and flowering plants that animals like deer eat and enslaved the rabbits of the area in their peat works using them as digging labourers. All in all if a species of animal had not been enslaved by Stink and his mink then they had fled the area in fear of their lives, nothing much of beauty was now left of this once picturesque landscape, they had even poisoned the water to almost all except themselves and their dietary requirement -the fish. 

           

            The animals stood poised - a sound could alert the men folk who were wary of wild animals and kept pets of Doberman dogs and tabby cats to ward against their intrusion. The cats ate the wild birds and prowled the streets of Meare and were known to the animal travellers all around as the dreaded Meare Cats. Their strong hold was Meare Manor where they breakfasted, luncheoned and dined in great style and often invited their raucous cousins the Mink to come off the levels to join them, headed at the table by Stink the Mink. The head of the Meare cats was a cat called Moses, a mean spirited gypsy like cat who had two sons one Morris and the other Tobias.

Sometime later...Somewhere near the northern face of the isle of Meare.

Beckoning in the distance of a long forgotten pose

The brown owl scowls morosely at the rose.

By any other name it would but smell so sweet

And the name of this one went by

Was St Mary's Street

The cock eyed cockerel crew

Again

Yearning for his winter Hen

And above the church tower the weather vein

Wheeled and squealed in a mild sunny breeze

The village was drowsing as men cut lawns

The sound of drilling rang out

While mothers hung laundry out doors

It was a good day for washing

And the shabby tabby cat lazed

Sprawled out on

The tar pitch roof of the granny annex

Warming itself in the rays

Lazarus observed this scene here

With the cool serenity

Of one who knows his destiny is to travel across

The Great Plains and estates of Meare

And far from loathing the prospect of danger

Coming from many quarters

He courts it like a suitor to the otter king’s pearly daughters

Starlings chattered in ever amassing flocks

As the animal troops look to the West

Of the eastern Glastonbury Blocks

The Tor faced back at them the sun its

Glimmering halo

And stretching between vast plains of country side

Thick with streams of alder and willow

And next to these Lazarus spied

The dark moors of Shapwick heath

Now shrouded in shadow

As if beset by some dark ineffable force

Yet this must be their final goal.

"Long will be our journey guarded the owl Hubert Cherrybatten

And many our foe,

The road will be dark

And every day the enemy grows

But end in sight there will be

Even when times seem darkest,

Even then the floor of reeds (Rush) will call

The Ring of Roses to it."

As he stared across the levels which once were his home, a monologue began in his mind and he was lost in remembering more innocent times, before the rise of the mink:

The Reeds which mark the water's edge

Do stay to unburden my night

In them I have all hope of day

And think my future bright

They are the Natural statute

Upon which are written Nature's Laws

And they mark the edge of an otter's emotions

How he conquers all his fears

My heart is proud

Will see me through dark night

I will not stoop to fear

Though I feel close to tears

That nature has absorbed from me

She will not let it near

The mighty oak stands in the bog

Myrtle sweetly smelling sways

Pigeons flock across the corn

On long hot summer days

The sun pours down its virgin rays

Upon this holy ground

The earth its hold

As natures song sings on and on

In this place which has my mould

The midnight swans move on the lake

The drake's song is clear

The twilight to the heaven turns

A wheel on celestial sphere

Ladders turn into the sky

Where silhouettes of silence roll

Into passing cloud shadows

As into Nature's folds I fall

As if carried by spiralling sparrows

The animal troops led by Lazarus chose to travel through the gardens of Meare, as the lamp lit pavements were too obvious a route and the Meare cats would spot them, at least, that was the plan.

            Lazarus crawled up to the fence and looked over a black current bush into the garden. Then they snuck in. A light was on in the kitchen as old Ann the retired teacher was pottering around, she had yet to let Tobias the fearful nine- paw high cat back in so he was somewhere around. A crow came down from above in the frozen sky but Mr Matravers threw a piece of shingle and knocked it down. Then as if as a swarm more crows began dive bombing the animals and Lazarus lead them all into the safety of a potting tunnel. The crows flew off and the animals exited the garden onto the pavement.

            There was an amber glow to the estate, the tarmac road and drives seemed to suck the sound out of all living things added to this the layer of ice frosted curb edges and chilled the feet of the animals. The rabbits were shivering in the semi circle that they all made around Lazarus awaiting his command. "We must make it across the estate - the other side is Down's orchard and beyond the farmers' fields until we reach Shapwick heath."

“But what of Tobias and Moses asked a timid rabbit at the rear

We shall have to face them when our time comes.”

“And what of King Stink and his hoards? How can we hope to fight him after marching across those fields day and night we shall all be exhausted?” -Asked Nancy -Michael Rabbits wife.

There will be time enough for rest once we have passed our immediate obstacle - said Owl and that is the Meare estates and its Meare Cats.

Yes these are no mindless rabble of buffooning stoats and weasels we will be facing. Said Mr Matravers they are a highly organised collective of vicious Pets and their owners are all members of Neighbour hood watch. Even now their spies may be watching us.

Well that leaves nothing for it said Lazarus than to start right away the sooner we get moving the safer we will be.

Yes indeed Mr Otter I second that, we shall be much better in our spirits once we have passed out of this dark and gloomy cul-de-sac. - said Michael Rabbit.

At this the smaller rabbits started to giggle at the look Nancy Rabbit was giving her husband - as if to say one of these days father - you will have pushed this family too far. Even though after this, they all knew that she would forgive them and that to keep moving would be for the best.

           

            The animals began moving off in the direction of the opening of the Main Meare to Glastonbury road and felt their way along the edges of the plank board fencing that lined the pavements and meant a barrier between them and what ever lurked in the gardens beyond. Even though, Michael rabbit still felt a slight uneasiness and an itching began in his nose as they moved further and further into the unmarked territory of Kirlegate. And almost imperceptibly as he was feeling this and Lazarus too by this time, a fine mist began to descend on the troop. Before they knew it the entire road had become a blur -the other side now seemed a million miles away as a swirling fog enveloped them. Try as they might they could not walk without stumbling and then stumbling lead to falling and disorientated they came to a stop. Looking around Lazarus saw that one road seemed to lead to another and the whole appeared to him as a maze.

All we have to do said Mr Matravers is to follow the fence line surely. And yet it was not as simple as there appeared to be any number of nooks and crannies false ways and cul-de-sacs leading to who knew where. Oh we should never have come this way muttered the field mouse. Only a lion would have attempted walking through this terrain and at dusk too. Nothing much remains of our path; I can hardly see the tail in front of me let alone be sure of my or his footing. 

The owl gave a twit-woo at this and flew up into the circling fog out of sight in a minute he had returned to say that the fog was thick and was covering most of the levels but a bank of clear air could be seen on the road - if only they could get to this.

Lazarus commanded: We will go forward I will be at the front and Michael Rabbit you bring up the Rear. With this they moved on...

Moses had been settled in one of the big luxurious armchairs at Meare Manor. A roaring fire and his owners rich brand of pedigree cat food had lulled him into a sleep in which he was coughing and spluttering in a dream. In it He was Stink the Minks butler and personal maid and had been charged with scrubbing him down in a bath. No matter how hard he scrubbed the Stinky mink just would not lose hid foul odour. Moses feeling he was losing his master affections rapidly kept pouring more and more suds into the bath to make it better but this resulted in the whole room filling with soapy bubbles. Eventually the whole wing and then whole of Meare Manor was filled to the brim with bubbles and Moses was in a raving panic being carried away down out onto the street and into the Brue in a sea of soapy foam! He awoke to his own voice screaming -no more Bubbles Sire! Please No more Bubbles! And the rap taps tapping of a rook on the window. His owner hearing only the sounds of an annoying meaoow! Bellow forth threw a determined slipper at him and he scarped away behind the curtain. Now at this time, to inform the reader, I should mention that Moses had been planning a party and banquet in Stink's honour at the Meare Manor to commemorate his rise to the king of levels. This was to be held when his owners were mercifully away on a holiday cruise around the Mediterranean.

            Still here now again, what was that sound, a rap pa tap tap. The window! Moses sidled up to the glassy pane and lifted it a little to let the cool evening air rush in and with it the fog. Then as mysterious as a ghost, the large black rook revealed itself once the fog veil lifted. Sir- the rook spoke in that rough military way of a soldier. “A Party of animals has been spotted entering the valley of Kirlegate, wild animals sir with what appears to be an otter at the head of them.”

“Animals, Wild animals you say well there cannot be any of them left surely King Stink has eradicated them or else brought them under the whip in one of his slave camps?”

“Sir they are as wild as the day I was born, if you'll pardon the expression and they mean to cross the whole village that is what my spies have heard.”

"Well we can't have that can, we Leopold?" No we can't a sly faced Siamese cat said sidling up beside him around one of the ornamental armchair feet.

“You as head of ravens And Spy Master Rook will inform my son Tobias of this that is his district And I will be damned if a son of mine can't stop a few rebels from going against the herd. Mark my words they will rue the day they decided to cross the estates of Meare.” With this, the Rook left in flap of feathers and Moses had shut the window pane.

“You are aware that Stinks visit is only hours away and we can't have a scene like this upsetting the apple cart Moses?”

“Yes. Thank you, Leopold, quite aware and nothing that these scoundrels are playing at will deter me from my preparations. Now how are the decorations coming, they both walked off into the hall way talking on the banquet and how it was to be achieved.”