Tabitha lies languid in the rocking chair
oblivious to the mayhem of human life.
She purrs out dreams to the sun-bleached air
and the occasional twitch denotes pussy strife.
Her fur is the colour of marmalade
her eyes a clear green pond.
Her breath a mousy feathery shade
Her whiskers nice and long.
She sets the scene on domestic bliss
this graceful feline accessory.
But she kills with a contemptuous hiss
and hunts at night with senses keen.
She loves no other cats come near
and jealous guards her territory.
The occasional `Tom` with bit-torn ear
may court her temporarily.
Does she love her human pets?
Maybe `love` is a human word,
she’ll stay as long as needs are met
and that they're always kind to her.
Kindness to a cat is the long stroke in the afternoon
the open door late at night.
The warm lap that’s not left too soon
And little children out of sight.
`Moggy` is a silly name
and should only be used when she’s not there.
For this suggests she could be tamed
not her! Have you seen that wicked stare?!
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | September 13, 2011 - 11:51
This almost brought a tear to my eye...remembering my cat, 'Chessie'; my companion and proverbial 'pain in the side' for nearly nine years, bless her;-)
Thanks for a lovely read, mark.
Tina
Indrani Ananda | February 23, 2012 - 05:31
Indrani Ananda
This is an exquisite poem, Mark. Sums up a cat beautifully, even though each has its own personality. I had a cat called Tabitha who died seven years ago, Even though she was nineteen, I still cry for her. I've got a poem about her on my site.
However I came on here after reading an old post of yours on the forum - you were discussing religion, science, space, stuff like that, but I found your cat poem instead. Anyway it's all stuff I write about.
Indrani.