She was always there
with her big green eyes
Looking up at me
and into the skies.
Her dreams were of birds
and of prowling about.
I tried keeping her in
but she always got out.
She would hide on the roof
to hunt unwary prey
then gift them to me
in her honoring way.
Sometimes I screamed loudly
at the gifts that she offered
centipedes, roaches and mice
were some things that she proffered.
Praises were always followed
by special kitty treats.
While I pleaded with her
to make no repeats.
She always stood guard
as if to give me protection
and would curl up close to me
to offer her affection.
Oh Lilly, sweet Lilly
please continue to purr
and I will continue
to stroke your soft fir.
As her song would begin
well, it made me cry.
I’ll miss her every day
until the day that I die.
November 24, 2014
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014
My little white fluff ball
I think all the kittens will grow
Soft and sweet
up to be healthy and strong the
Small and calm
way they should be when they
She is as sweet as candy
should be. I think they will love.
She plays all day and sleeps all night.
Anyone who will love them.
They are small but strong.
I know they will have great lives ahead of them
She loves to have fun
Her small blue eyes glowing, tiger with his new owner
Ash and Cotton with us.
I love cotton just as much as the others.
She love her siblings
She is small and loud
I love her lots
She weaves between the gates
And runs after her brothers tail
I wish she was more quick.
I still love her with all my heart
Like I love ask and tiger her brothers
They are all sweet and they are like little rabbits.
I hope they grow up to be big and strong
My little angles they may seem now but
What about when they are older?
Copyright © Allison Bickham | Year Posted 2013
Ode To Pretty Cat
My cat has female inclinations when it purrs
It does not speak in English using words
But has a perfect soul
Pretty Cat gets by, with its billowy fur
Prefers not fighting and takes flight
At any sign of danger or such notions
Avoids all confrontations
Wears his fluffy yellow hair like gold
He spreads out on his pillows that are its oceans
Unfolds, unfurls his coat in thick proportions
Spoiled, preened and cleaned in lotions
He’s such a pretty boy
Curtains hang as clouds, as distractions
Such fun and dangling’s, to drag them down, as pleasure toys
We smother him in kisses, emotions and affections
He’s such a pretty thing
Who simply glows
He’s almost human
It is a life of comforts, slumbering all day
I would love to be with kitty all the time
But work and life get in the way
So I must work so Pretty Cat can play
It dreams in feline tiny mind expressions
Short cat naps at a time of happy things and smiles
Imagines fish and birds served up in style with some cat nip
Pretty Cat has no place to go so it grows fat
We pet him for hours while he rolls on his back
I just love being with my little friend
A true city kitty cat
Though he is very old he stays real sweet and pretty
My heart jumps, as it attacks the string I hold
It clings to it and swings with fevered paws
As bright green eyes follow like a tick tock clock
Pendulum like as the one thing in life he likes a lot
It is through comfort found in twine and string
My cat and I find true happiness in things
When I’m with Pretty Cat problems fade far away
Dissolve and melt into tomorrow with no sorrow
Where beauty alone cannot keep his lustrous eyes awake
Our play time has no measure in the hours
I always find pure pleasure with that Pretty cat of mine
Created on 11/04/14 for “Pets” -Poetry Contest
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
To Tiger, our first, and best, a grey Tabby,
large and handsome, with broad black stripes,
I only had to speak your name,
and you moved to obey.
To our second, Sylvester, exact replica
of the cartoon character, a born hunter,
lining up your prey on the front walk.
I welcomed the mice and shrews.
But, do you recall me prying your jaws
open to set the chipmunks free?
And Tricia, our Calico, gorgeous
enough to be queenly, but sweet.
How we loved watching you play
with S'Lito and Rugby,
as if you too were a dog.
Next, Petunia, your snow white coat
in sharp contrast to black ears,
tail and face mask – a true beauty.
Yet a quirky personality spoils
your disposition. You "talk" non-stop
and hiss at anything that moves.
If only I could speak your language.
You're the kicker, Sweet William,
resident ruler of my heart.
You came to us as a kitten,
nondescript, long and lean,
independent, sometimes aloof,
sometimes very affectionate,
always playful, always endearing.
All of you were unwanted rejects,
dumped like sacks of garbage,
each unique, each with your own niche
in our permanent memory banks.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
There was a young feline named Jackson,
Who wanted a piece of the action.
While hunting for rats, Jack
Got into a spat, with a strange little
Creature known to us as a bat.
This then is the fact of the matter.
The bat proved as 'mad as a hatter'.
And it paid with it's life,
Causing Jackson much strife:
Bad luck for the poor little ratter.
They arrested the cat in a hurry
And woe to this poor furry purry.
Without even a trial, he was put on 'The Mile'
Where his life became drab and quite dreary.
Jack's been sitting there day after day,
Quite bored and just pining away.
While dreaming of mousies and birds on the wing,
Of hair balls and catnip and such kitty things.
"How long, oh how long must I pay?
Please won't someone just whisk me away?
Back to my home where a kitty can roam
And stay out-of-doors all live, long day."
The end of this tale I hope tell,
Will find Jack finally leaving his cell,
To be welcomed back home, once again
Free to roam, older and wiser and well.
"No more bats for this cat", Jackson moans.
And it seems that he's learned on his own:
It's far better than not, to keep up with ones shots,
Than call three feet of jail space your home!
© 2015 Diane Lefebvre
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
A couple weeks before her fourteenth birthday,
We knew something was wrong
Peanut, who loved to eat above all else, suddenly turned down food
To make it worse she was having trouble breathing
I had urged my dad that we had to take her to the pet hospital, and he agreed
At the hospital, when they told us what was wrong,
I could see the look in my dad’s face
Even I knew, it was her time
We all got to say our final goodbyes,
Held her paw, and stayed with her as she drifted to sleep
Her passing had hit us so hard, like a huge weight had fallen onto us
I kept asking myself, over and over again,
“why did she have to go?”
We all thought she was gone forever,
And tears of sadness had stuck with us for a while
Then a strong realization came over us,
Peanut was not gone,
She would always be with us
Tears of sadness soon became tears of happiness
When we learned about the Rainbow Bridge
Hearing that touching story,
We all knew Peanut would forever be in our minds and our hearts
If Peanut is waiting on the other side of that Rainbow Bridge,
Then I look forward to the day when we cross that bridge and can be with her
Dedicated to Peanut
In our memories,
The pets that have passed will always remain
We realize upon having them
That they turn out to be something more-
A loving companion, a protector,
And most of all, a friend
Someone who will always be there for you
One who gives you a shoulder to cry on,
A creature subtly unassuming,
Who will simply listen..
There is a connection with our pets
That is impossible to break
And when there comes a time to say goodbye,
That connection will help us continue on
We never want them to leave,
But all of us know that nothing lasts forever
But the effect they leave on you
And the love you have for them does
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
**This is a special set of poetry written with my friend Justin Connor--we each wrote separate accounts of special companions. The ending verse we wrote together. These poems are meant to be one piece of work. **
Scarcely a year old, I remember with sad, sinking heart
But then I smile, because I remember all the good times
It was the night of Pentecost, our little kitten was found
My mother, happy to bring in the oddest of pets,
Curled her fingers around a small kitten, beaming
And there was sunlight in all eyes all the night
He had been crying in the bushes for a place to stay
And he had found one…it might have been destiny
There was something in his green eyes that dazzled me
Weakening and strengthening my heart all in one I held him in my arms,
A special cat on a special day
Pentecost is his name, and it is here he will remain
I remember everyone loved him because of his grace
That dreamy eye and soft-hearted face
I remember the first night and many more nights to come
I turned my music box, opened it up and sang him a song
He listened intently and soon was fast asleep
His small colorful multi-marked body breathing deeply
His tiny, white boot legs tucked under his chest
“You’re the best, Pentecost,” I whispered. “You’re the best…”
Even my father, who was never fond of cats,
Was won over by his embraceable charms
Pentecost would spawn an effort to make him smile
Stretching out on the floor making sure everyone was watching
Listening lovingly to my dad’s favorite classical repertoire..
He would ring around our ankles with his paws playfully
Causing us to scream in shock and skip away
He would jump back from the shriek making us laugh up a storm
And look up at all the noise curiously
Pentecost also liked small boxes to squeeze into
I would lift up a cardboard flap to see a whiskered jewel
And he would look up at us and wonder
Can we make room for two?
He favored no one and was friendly with all
Long and muscular, this cat had boundless energy
One point he’d be at the window
And the next in the laundry, his tail whipping
What I will never forget was how happy he would lay in the grass
I would watch him and pet him, the sun hitting his fur
Gray black stripes and swirls of art lighting all at once
His soft, sensitive ears rubbing against my arm
The affection was mutual as Destiny knew
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
To every happy memory, there are sad ones that hit just as hard
And the sadness began when I looked at his side
To see a large lump there
I wasn't as worried as I should have been…
Everyone thought Pentecost would be okay
For our other cat survived a thing like this on her own
She had bitten the lump off herself
Puss oozing out…and she had healed with no problem
This lump was different…
I cringe because it was wrong for us to wait
He began to grow thinner… his eyes began to look sad
He no longer ran from the window to the laundry
He no longer jumped into my dad’s lap for a pet
He didn’t even eat, and that was one thing I thought he would never give up…
Dreamy, but sad, I looked at him opening a can of his favorite meal
I wished there was something more to be done for him
I begged my parents to take him to the vet
Because I sensed it would soon be too late
My mother kept saying he would be fine in due time
But in a matter of two weeks my mom surely knew
And she was the one to say it…
She said softly, “I think he’s going to die”
I held him on the less tender side of his body near my bed
Tears building in my eyes
I didn’t want Pentecost to suffer…
I wanted him to live life and be his happy self…
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
she wrapped around me
All I ever need beside my feet
A feline happy to come up and greet
Green tint eyes
She is sweet
Guiding me through
A violent Thunderstorm
Treat me right
Won't you be my cat tonight?
Copyright © Bart Jonas | Year Posted 2006
There’s a mouse in my house,
a greedy little souse
He’s clever for I never
eyewitness his endeavors,
But the cat sentinel sat,
and I know the little rat
There are holes in my rolls
and mouse turds in my bowls.
Though a lover, out of cover,
of all fauna I discover
This critter makes me twitter
at his presence as a sitter
in my kitchen,
So I’m bitchin’; but the mouse,
Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015
they came from miles to meet "Carlisle"-
the feline freak who won the lotto
in all their disbelief
that such a thing could truly be
many wondered how she'd done it
let 'em wonder was her motto
and until this furry day-
it remains a mystery!
Copyright © Rob Metcalf | Year Posted 2010
Mummy’s cat Samantha is as old as can be
Mummy’s cat Samantha doesn’t really like me
She sleeps in dad’s chair, like she’s under a spell
Nothing ever disturbs her, till I give out a yell
You should see her run when I starts up my din
Once they went and found her in an old drum tin
She’s terribly senile, she’s lost all her spring
Mostly she sleeps getting hair on everything
Mummy thinks she marvellous, intelligent and bright
I think she’s a dummy and a real parasite
And when she goes a missing, it’s a real catastrophe
Where’s Sammy? Find Samantha our little Princess
Mummy knows she’s an alley cat but will never confess
And she runs around the house calling everywhere
And stupid old Samantha, doesn’t even care
All she wants is her bickies and juicy rump steak
For me yuckie vegies, of the best SHE partakes
Every day they cut her meat up all tiny and fine
But nobody seems to care about cutting up mine
Poor dear little Samantha, I’m just horrid they say
She not a proper *****, and never wants to play
She never rubs against your legs, or purrs friendly like
I wish I had a dog, like my best friend Mike
She’s so terribly old, and such a big bore
So I’m gonna tell her about China and Singapore
Where they eat cats for dinner, if they don’t act nice
And play with little boys and get rid of the mice
What does she think of as she sleeps in the grate
Probably of Samuel her friend and her mate
How when they were young together they’d stand guard
Hunting all the insects and birdies in our yard
Now those days have gone, so has Samuel her love
Now you cannot budge her, except with a shove
Dear little Samantha as she sits and day dreams
I sneaks up behind her and REAL LOUDLY SCREAMS!
Copyright © Lizzie Treetop | Year Posted 2011