Notes About The Poem
Smokey was a big black Persian cat Mom brought home when I was 6 mos. old and he was just 8 wks. old. He died when we were both 18yrs. old.
It broke my heart.
Smokey - My First Friend
Smokey was a funny cat.
You could see him think.
His place of choice to do this,
Was table or kitchen sink.
He'd loll about for hours,
In seemingly deep thought,
Musing o'er life's mysteries,
Or the mouse he never caught.
He looked so wise just sitting there,
Mysterious and ancient,
Never bothering anyone,
Complacent and so patient.
The only thing he didn't like,
Was being combed and groomed.
If you picked up his comb and brush,
He'd quickly leave the room.
I swear sometimes he read our minds,
Knew what we were about.
He understood our every word,
Of that there was no doubt.
He was my friend from babyhood.
We were babes together.
He taught me climbing, stealth and patience.
Our bond could not be severed.
He taught me to look nonchalant,
And even innocent,
If by chance I should get caught,
Whene'er house rules were bent.
Whenever Mom and Dad were cross,
He taught me how to blend,
Into the background or become,
So cute they had to grin.
My memories of him are fond.
I thought he'd live forever.
He taught me fun and love and loyalty.
He won't die, not ever.
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