Planes on Parade The planes zipped by Bearing different flags. I gripped the control yoke, And remembered a girl named Mags. Her hair was yellow, Though it soon would turn to grey, And her eyes had a certain sparkle That I hoped would never fade away. I heard the gunshots Against the metal of my plane, And I had a nagging thought That I would never be the same. I heard a scream That I soon identified as mine, And looked down at my calf Which felt like it was on fire. I heard another gunshot Which came from the back of the plane, And I glanced back at my gunman Who would never look the same. His hands were bathed in red, The red that came from his neck, And he looked me in the eye As he fell out of the jet. I turned my attention back to steering That godforsaken aircraft. I managed to land on one of the bases Though the pain inside me was searing. They took me in to surgery Where they amputated my leg. Now flesh ends Right before the knee. I was fitted for a prosthesis Just a few hours ago, And I vow to lug the metal thing proudly Everywhere I go. #VeteransDay

While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night "'Fear not,' said He, for mighty dread Had seized their troubled minds. 'Glad tidings of great joy I bring To you and all mankind. To you and all mankind.'" - Excerpted from the song While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night, by Craig Courtney. (Punctuated accordingly) It's stuck in my head and I thought I'd share it.

His Giant An orange tabby sets his white paws on the windowsill. His pink, wet nose touches glass as he stares at the great beyond - something the giants call a "backyard," whatever a "yard" is - and yearns to finally feel the pokey green stuff against his paws. They say it's soft this time of year, but it still looks quite pokey to him. He tilts his head, curious about the force that randomly moves the pokey green stuff. "What if it'll move me?" He thinks to himself. This thought frightens him, and he sets his paws back to the ground - "carpet" - with a humph. "What're you doing, love?" His giant asks in a tone that is fit for a young child. She sound's a bit hoarse. Red circles her eyes, but the tabby hardly takes notice. He replies, "I do wish you wouldn't speak like that. You sound dumb," and rubs against her leg. She just forces a smile and rubs his chin. "Sometimes I wonder if she can understand me," he thinks. He purred, and said, "You can't love on me when we're having a perfectly civilized conversation." She just lets out an, "Aww," and continues petting him. -•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•- The sky darkens, the#moonbrightly shines, and the tabby wakes up from a nap. He stretches and yawns. His eyes are slits, a defense against the harsh artificial light. He takes a look at the clock and notices that it's about the time his giant is in bed. He thinks to himself, "Perhaps she was too tired to switch off the lights." So he walks to the light switch, jumps upward with his paws outstretched, and turns the lights off with one go. He pads silently to his giant's bedroom, still exhausted, and plans before he reaches the door to jump silently on the bed, right at her feet, to keep the both of them cozy. Yet, when he reaches the door, it is shut. If he were a human, he would furrow his eyebrows. "That's strange," he thinks. "She never shuts this door." He paws at the door once, just loud enough to wake her up so that he can enter. But there is no answer. Silence. He paws again at the door, this time with both paws, and makes a sound loud enough to alert someone in a dead sleep. He sniffs under the door, wondering if she is in her room at all, and catches a strange whiff that often surrounds decaying corpses. The ones who have been dead for about an hour. He pulls out his claws and starts scratching at the door, crying loudly. "No, this cannot be true." His cries are left unheard, for behind the door, lying in a bloody mess on the floor, is his giant.

Rhyming Couplet 1 Enough is enough; I am sick of your bluff!