Beckoned by Twilight, the Sirens called “Come to the island with frozen sand You can walk on water, sweet voices sang The river is down, and the current runs thin…” With my ears verily tortured, I nearly took the plunge Deluged by temptations, as the Sirens’ songs were sung “Think of the photos from the frozen sand Surrounded by water that moseys along Reflecting the moonlight like polished glass Come to us! Come to us! Come to us! Come…”
Curious coyote
Dragon kitty
Spunk: “What’s this sick Sirens’ songs sung stupidity you’re spewing, Paparazzo? You know you can’t walk on water. Trying to take some funky photos surrounded by water while standing on frozen sand is not worth drowning for. Besides, if you end up as a bottom feeder in the Rio Grande, who’s going to feed me?”
Silver: “Hey, Paparazzo! What does it take for a kitty to get some shut-eye around here?”
Neither hither nor thither Over hill nor dale had he come To be found lying face down In a state of perpetual dither Scooped up into the nether He was lost But on the fourth day He fell back to earth Dropped by the ether Under the influence Of a blue moon So bright What’s one to do? Other than continue the saga Of Scoopy on a frozen beach Waiting a spring thaw