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Two Poems from our Cats Poetry Collection
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| CATS COMPANY |
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| Author: |
Martha Kane
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| Poem: |
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Three little faces staring my way,owned by three little cats who came to stay. And if you're thinking that cats are all the same, then you had better read on and then ...think again.
Duchess -- eleven years old.
Duchess is a lady, i can't deny the fact.With all her airs and graces,she's the perfect lttle brat.From the very first day she defended her domain.Oh !! the way she carries on, it's a wonder i'm still sane.Her mind is unpredictable, she insists on being free. The only thing consistant is the love she has for me. It's hard to discribe her there's not much that i can say,accept that she is headstrong and nearly always gets her way.
Sylvester --- five years old.
Sylvester is an inigma, yet he really is quite grand.When he came he brought along with him an imaginary friend.He looks somewhat like a rabbit and acts just like a dog. That's when he's not using furniture, as a scrathing log. He can't quite figure out what he wants to be, i guess he is still young so we'll just have to wait and see.
I tell him he'd be well suited to be "man of the house",if only he would change his mind about becoming mighty mouse.
Speckles ---- nineteen years old
Speckles was a street cat who depended on her luck,she boasts that she's been courted by every tom cat on the block. Some of her discendants decorate the street, popping in to visit when they want something to eat.Her teeth are falling out now and she's getting rather fat. Effectionatly i've nicknamed her, "my rolly polly cat" After her years of popularity she makes one thing crystal clear, i should count myself darn lucky that "she's" retired here.
And what of me ???
The house that i once cherished no longer looks so fine. There is not a room within it, which is designated "mine". Through the years we've battled cat flu, furballs, worms but mostly flees.It might possibly have been easier to sail the seven seas !!. But one thing i am quite sure of ,and this i say with certainty . Few things in life beat the warmth i feel ...when i'm in cats company . |
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More Cats poems |
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| Major Fur |
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| Author: |
Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson
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| Poem: |
Major Fur |
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The cats are shedding major fur – They dropp their coats With every purr Every time I pet, Fur flies, Gets in my nose, Gets in my eyes What shall I do With all this fur? I must do something, My friends concur For the carpet now is Not quite brown Where cascading cats Have wandered ‘round And those who sit down In my chairs, Find their butts covered With fine, soft hairs When from me Their leaves they take, A trail of fur-bunnies Dogs their wake What shall I do with all this fur? I know! Another cat I’ll make! I’ll build it very carefully, use up all the cat hair fully And sculpt myself a new & grand creation Then all I’ll need, Oh, yes, indeed Will be some act of godly animation & my molded little ball of fur will rise, and stretch, and start to purr
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