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Musing: Crickets

Crickets are my best insects
But why? I know not
They stay under my bed
And cry out till I have an ache up my head
But what they say also I know not
Though I think they talk about broth
Wonder why little insects
Grow even beer intent
They growl, some bark
And all these come to my back
‘Stop’ I would shout
‘No way, you are talking to yourself’
I wonder if they cared if I was asleep
‘Who does he even think he is?’
They squeak behind my hearing
Not knowing my elfy ears pick all
‘Yaaay! Let’s shriek more!!!’
They stubbornly seem to say
When they seem to hear me snore
Come what happens or may
The shrieks and strange crickety talks
Come to me as disturbing lullaby

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A New Day

The morning sun brings joy
Now that the dark has gone
And the clan is wide awake
To begin the days routine

The clouds are bright
For the new day has come
Birds fly away over the hills
The forest trees drift about

The mists are sucked off
As the heat of the Sun shine forth
The airs are dry
The winds are flirty

The infants wanting milk wail
Dogs, cats, pigeons; pets play about
The clan is ready to work
For the day waits for no man

The morning has come
Hopes are high
The traders offload their goods
And the town is fully woken