LEO

1. His Egocentric View

Like a lion's mane, a collar of rays
A fiery persona emanates, takes over,
dominates every social scene.

He keeps the spotlight for himself,
He is the spotlight, daylight, rain lights,
Pars and Frenelles, his searchlight
Follows the soul of self-importance.

Running lights greet or leave you
Seat you on the sideline, bench you
Couch you, keep you grateful
Just for a glimpse of him.
He mirrors himself because

There is no greater example of man,
No larger spirit to emulate.


The only choice in the gene pool,
He fights for the right to rule the roost,
And defends his stainless reputation.

2. His Dominant Role

"I am the good times rolling, masher,
Gate crasher, everybody's party guy,
Host of pleasures, great with children,
Never a dull moment, quick on the QT.

I'm a rubber room full of rubber bullets,
Always the bounce-back-buckaroo,
Watch the magic show, give me room,
Flames have no effect on me, Bucko.

You'll be glad you knew me, listen up,
Take my words to heart, luck rubs off,
Do what I do, be flamboyant, take a chance,
You only get to be egotistical once.

I am the largest ideal on planet earth,
Larger than a sunflower, stinking like a
Marigold, bugs won't even try to light.

I am the last cat you want to challenge."

3. His Creations Pleasure Us

Staring at your ruby talisman we see
Our injuries melt away, the backbone
Stresses disappear, the heart mend.
A serenity of mind persuades us
How to be, from your menu of banter
You choose the one you want us to be.
When you're with us you spin us round,
Point us in your floating directions,
Lion with eagle wings, old man winter,
Spring, a raging bull, all your seasons.

Ah, you're home for the holidays, antics

Representing all the pertinent spirits,
No amusement too ethnic, too esoteric,
Youth and aged alike are welcomed in,
Puppies and the pedigree soon go frantic.

Welcome theatre in the round, psycho drama,
Love doctor house caller, psychic teacher,
Matchmaker from hell, condescension unbound,

Heracletian furnace, harvest moon exuberant,
Broadminded beyond your own sphere of mind,
A ringmaster, circus entertainer, grab bag,
Goof ball, sheik of shine and shoe shinola,
Enough ego for twenty men AND your big cats.

4. Finding A Sacred Niche

One can never be all that you are
Or all that you want us to be,
Yet you settle for being kept
On display, site for sore niches.

Bright sky can turn into summer storms
And the beach will scatter no matter
How delightfully you reign or beam,
No matter how much fun you want to be.

Pretending to be a homeless bon vivant
You're not faking it or putting on airs.
Outcast, you tom cats know deep down
The number one cause for joy and despair.

Your last word on this? “My will be done.“

TAURUS

1. Her Practical View

A quiet earth surrounds her
With an emerald green protection,
Aching throat of sensual desire,
A changeless toehold of turf.

She wears her evening jewels
for a crown, her inspired motif.
Pale blue and mauve color
Her distant hills and echoes.

Fierce in pursuit, gentle in love,
Yet, maternal, heavy lidded,
A shade of dark from sleep,
She resides with the dead.

She may feast on her wealt
And power and abundance,
Fatten like a holy cow, but
All her children WILL survive.

2. Her Official Role

“You will find me on the earliest coins,
Tokens of writing and records, your
First office patroness, Coffee anyone?”
“A spirit of the first stones of men,
Guarding their tombs with echoes

So the dead will someday live again.”
“Look beneath the beaten hearth
The floorboard underling who binds
the forbears’ sculls to family ken.”

“Trace my threads, my strands

My only son, stripped bare
To weave by hand a basket hat.”

“His wine, my only vine I gave
So every mortal being will know

The gods and what the spirit feels,.”
Mornings stepping from my lake
I sing, the hell with corn flakes,
Let’s jump start the day with sex!”

3. Her Performance Takes You In

Your make-up feathered by dawn’s
Soft touch, the barest whisk of hairs
blend these delicate hues that only
Form the sensitive eye of the wave.

Your planet earth charisma skills are
High in demand, the consummate host
You twist into silk the lost chord that runs
Thru every bar-band tune in the world.

Art is life in stone, to paint is to pray.
In cathedral cave in the sanctum sit
The spirits of creation, the birth of all,
A pantheon of animals that made us.
You are pillow shaman, votive
Bedroom drama, slipcover bold.

You steady the rock of the moon,
fix love politely in a drowsy stare,
Your senses keenly aware
Of the clam shell you rode in on.

You struggle the night for life and light
No shade is too extreme to shed,
And still you cling to a dreadful soul,
Karma chic with a cat on your head.

4. The Security Guard’s last round

Ice fern windows glazed by artists’ rime
Will not deter the guard from spinning
On your sleeping window of promises.
The sill, a draped museum of carcasses
Yourself, are hopes and plodding force.

Penniless, without a throne, you’ll only
Be a hollow reed that tootles in the wind.
More enduring than earthly determination,
You must plant yourself in luxury’s lap
Deserving the fruits of others, where sap
Will always rise to a stirring occasion.