It is so hard to say goodbye. The end has come.
I knew it would . . . someday. Such a good cat;
for twelve long years, my Grumpy, always there for me,
wanting a pat, a lap, a snack to make you fat.
I recall our first meeting on a freezing winter day,
cold, unfriendly eyes of a stray, rejected by the world;
alone and afraid, hissing. Slowly a trusting friendship,
and eventually in my arms you were curled.
How can I endure this cruel world without my friend?
But of course, I must go on . . . I imagine you;
in a beautiful garden, lush and green. Sunshine streaming,
bird songs filling the air, and a sky azure blue.
You are busy grooming your shiny brown tabby fur,
amber eyes twinkle, a little pink tongue busy curling;
a paw, a face . . . something catches your attention;
you jump up to swat a passing butterfly whirling.
Rolling in the cool grass, you curl up for a nap,
with a sigh . . . and death came to you like a thief;
till I draw my last breath, I will hold you in my heart,
the price I pay for loving you so much, is grief.
But, I would not change one moment of our time together,
you were a gift from God, to last me all my lifetime;
never to be repeated . . . as you drew your last breath,
I whispered in your ear, till to heaven I climb,
and I placed you in God's loving arms in the meantime . . .
Written at sixteen years old
Posted, April 27, 2017
Elegy/In Memory Of Grumpy Cat
Copyright Protected, ID 895903
"All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small:
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all . . . ."
(Mrs. Cecil Frances Humpreys Alexander, 1848)
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2017
And now I’ve reached that Rainbow Bridge
and turn a mournful eye
t’ward ‘mom and dad’ who cared for me
and implore them not to cry.
My life, though short, was brimmed with love’s
sweet tenderness, so treasured.
The affection that they showered on me
not ever could be measured.
And now I cross that Rainbow Bridge
it seems so less obscure.
There’s nothing there t’will trouble me
no more pain must I endure.
I stop and turn – just one last look
and see my 'parents' aching,
the tears well up in my wee eyes
my doleful heart is breaking.
And now I’ve crossed that Rainbow Bridge
auf wiederschein I bade,
it’s not goodbye, we’ll meet again
no love will be mislaid.
And anxiously I’ll await for you
an e’er-vigilant eye I’ll keep
and every hour, with hope I’ll dream
of that day when next we’ll meet.
Copyright © John Lofquist | Year Posted 2015
A truant blizzard's hurl allowed shadows hide
when the night was pale. And all the dark ravens yelled
as I buried my cat, last year, frozen and dead. That all
the lilies of in between, wailed of my Christmas eulogy.
For the contest, A Christmas Memory,
Sponsor, Broken Wings
Nov 21, 2015
From Franco Gonza
Copyright © Franco Gonza | Year Posted 2015
Look at yourself Mr Hunt!
How can you be trusted.
Appalled by indoor comments of a prisonary view.
Native species fade through the mass destruction of our lands,
Yet you in the veil of science
Conserve a ruthless plan.
Poison takes on innocents
Have you not learned life's lesson
To see myxomatosis ravage, rage and burn in the devil's reflection.
Yet you. Oh no! Yes you
Believe that what you do is best
For future preservation, to ensure your culling's met
By eager fools in genocide
On the islands of your shore.
The year 2020 you will celebrate I'm sure.
But me and others like me
We grow older by the day
Bardot tried to implore you
In an intellectual way.
Blighted by your lack of vision
To impose a steady hand,
To inject mass steralisation
That would retain you as a man.
The slow death and the shooting,
Toxic meat wrapped up in plunder.
Roll up. Roll up conservation
In the land we call down under.
Copyright © Lily Radcliffe | Year Posted 2015
DEATH OF THE CAT
Cats are all the same?
Zimbo was his name
He was an Asian Mackerel,
That’s his colouring term technical.
About nine years old, everyone’s pet
Went missing for days, daughter began to fret
Older brothers found him cold
On road, by a car he’d been rolled
Just one knock clean on his head
And the poor wee thing was dead
Zimbo was laid in garden by the boys
With weeping daughter adding his toys.
I’d been working away for two years
The States, Moscow, Algiers
Missed the kids and their growing lives
Taking them on walks and drives
Missed their exams, prizes, colds and ‘flu s
What birthday dress to choose, what daily news.
It’s I who should have been there at
The final farewell to the family cat
This one event showed clearly to me
How I’d lost my role in the family.
Just a little creature which had to depart ?
I still feel pain from my heart-dart.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2010
Our Joe's died
20 Years I had our Joe
And then she died
My baby got sick
My baby was in pain
It's just a cat
But I pleaded with god
Make her well again
She wanted my bed
I'd sleep on the floor
She could have asked for the world
I'd have given her more
She lived my life
All the years with me
And even in pain she stayed by my side
Then she asked me
By the look in her eyes
I'm tired I hurt
Please let me go
And it's just a cat
And I had to let her go
But my hearts broken
So dont try to tell me
That it's just a cat
Cos it was my cat
My cat and I know
Copyright © Beverley Key | Year Posted 2008
Approximately one and a half score minus seven years ago
this then naïve and innocent early twenty something,
now a middle aged, diamond in the rough, jaded
two plus decades slavish married male did not realize
his fare maiden perfect form, she a capricorn
(who also shared same January 13th birthday as myself,
though a half dozen years Mycenae senior
hovered in mine immediate proximity,
a mere hello kitty whisker away,
which accompanying cat’s eye soft nose a pet smart appetite
saw me weight tool screwed up
to revere mother of pearl opal mate ideal beau
now ex post facto finds yours truly ruing foregone soul mate to crow
in vain, though I cannot help pining and lamenting where art thou – dow
ting she (MaryAnn Sage, a young whirled, wide webbed childless divorcee,
a couple of years shy of thirty)
ponders whereabouts of this contemplative, furtive
* * * * * * * * * *
Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2017