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Kitty
When
Summer sends us cheery, sunny days,
She
can't help but to sit in sunny rays.
The
chores are done and duly inspected,
As
she watches the birds from where she lays.
Lunch, she fancies, and mulls over in her mind,
Just what in the kitchen she's apt to find.
Chicken, liver, or fish, leftover stew?
No rush, it'll wait, it's time to unwind.
She's basking as if on some beach of sand,
Where others (not me) can get evenly tanned.
From
where my hoe works, I stop to admire,
How
she adorns our tiny plot of land.
Slowly, she stretches and lengthens her frame,
Rolling to her side, again does the same,
Working out the kinks as she relaxes.
It's time to go in, so I call her name.
She
looks at me and squints her mystic eyes,
But
then is distracted by damselflies.
I
call her once more to meet on the porch,
She rises upon her sinuous thighs.
The door slides easily within its grooves.
Padding about on feet quite bare, she moves,
Through it towards our den with feline grace.
When I collapse on the couch, she approves.
Her
choicest perch, she settles in my lap,
To continue the interrupted nap.
She
shyly curls her legs beside herself
And proceeds to become a cuddly wrap.
It's easy to tell that I they adore,
Though I can safely say one I love more.
Both reflect the nature of the other;
Kitty with two legs and kitty with four.
May 25, 1998
My kitty with four legs is named
Mystique,
for how she found me is somewhat unique.
I love her affection and attention,
and how she talks to me in kitty-speak.
But as warm and cuddly as she may be,
I long for a woman to walk with me,
talk with me, and have the right heart to love
kindly, gently, steadfastly, endlessly.
September 10, 2007 |
