An Evening With Poe and Merlot

         This one is about the time a cricket’s chirping challenged my sanity. But before filling you in, I'm going to first pass along a few cricket facts:
         It should be noted the crickets’ main purpose for being seemingly is that they are a food source for many other animals, including humans (yummy). Along with that delicious fact, here are a few more that may interest.
         Crickets’ ears are located on the knees of their front legs.
         Crickets can see different directions at the same time.
         In the wild, they have a life span of less than one year.
         Female crickets do not chirp.
         Male crickets generates the chirping sound to attract females.
         The chirping is produced when he raises his left forewing and rubs it against the upper edge of his right forewing.
         One can predict the temperature by counting the number of chirps. The number of chirps in 15 seconds + 37 = the temperature in Fahrenheit.
         The most famous cricket characters in popular culture are Jiminy Cricket and Cri-kee from Disney movies Pinocchio and Mulan, respectively.
         Now then, about that cricket and me: Last summer, I was sitting in my den reading poetry and enjoying a delightful bottle of wine when…Maybe it best I start at the beginning.

I carefully draw from its cradle
A bottle of fine libation.
I then select from a shelf of books
A volume for relaxation.

The wine I have chosen to imbibe
Is a rich, full-bodied Merlot.
Tonight I will read a book of poems
Penned by one Edgar Allan Poe.

With these friends in hand, I then proceed
To my den for a late-night read.

The room is small, yet comfortable.
The light is soft without a glare.
I uncork the wine and pour a glass,
Settling in my favorite chair.

Quiet… Calm… Peace

While at the sea with Annabelle Lee,
A lone cricket stirs outside my door.
The quiet is gone; the calm has withdrawn.
As for peace: I have just declared war.

I slam shut E. A. Poe and chug the Merlot.
I fly out of my favorite chair.
I sling open the door; the noise is no more.
He’s too chicken to challenge dare.

Sipping wine with flair, I kick back in my chair.
Victorious, I pick up my read.
I am feeling smug having bested that bug.
A great victory one must concede.

Drinking my wine, I peruse A Valentine.
I find Fanny’s name penned in plain sight.
The next poem I read is the warm Eulalie.
A kind read for this calm, peaceful night.

Quiet… Calm…Kreegit!

Oh, God, not again! It’s that creaky door din.
He continues his nerve-racking deed.
I must put an end to this obnoxious friend.
I’ll teach him to interrupt my read.

Into the dark night, I search with a flashlight,
But no annoying noise does he cede.
He does not make a sound, so not to be found.
Mister bug is most wily indeed.

When I locate that pest you can surely rest
His life I will definitely end.
Noisemaker deluxe soon will be squishy guts.
To bug heaven his soul I will send.

One very smart cricket hides in the thicket,
Motionless, he dares not make a sign.
I will leave him there and get back to my chair;
To Mr. Poe and surely more wine.

As I read and drink, I can not help but think
About that lone bug out in the cold.
When will he begin playing music again,
Chirring wildly outside my threshold?

I await, but no way does a tune he plays.
All this earsplitting silence must cease.
I pray he begins making noise once again.
Put an end to this quiet, calm, peace.


















Kreegit




Kreegit Kreegit



Kreegit Kreegit Kreegit
Kreegit Kreegit Kreegit Kreegit Kreegit


In the dark and still night, beneath the moonlight,
A lone cricket serves-up an encore.
In my haven, I sip wine with The Raven.
Such fine pleasure should last evermore.

         My go-round with a cricket, I am embarrassed to admit, was a bit over the top. Today, however, I am pleased to declare, crickets and I get along without conflict. They can play music as loudly and as often as they choose. My means of acceptance: earplugs and lots of wine.

WC: 710