Loss Cat Poems

These Loss Cat poems are examples of Loss poems about Cat. These are the best examples of Loss Cat poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme |
the season I turned eleven
was the season that I died
there'd been blood betrayal and famine
and I thought I had survived

my neighbor killed my kitten
and for that I could not cry
my mother went to handle it
told me to stay inside

i sat poised in an armchair
trying to calm my mother down
while I could feel nothing
we knew she'd made him drown

the woman was a laundress
washed other people's clothes
didn't like the stink of pig sties
it offended her frail nose

the wash-board on the right side
where the pigs did have their homes
was the one she always gave me
like the left one was her own.

only when a pig was hanging
would she demand to trade
i'd wash next to a hog's corpse
a choice could not be made.

then one day I got angry
and I dared to move her clothes
i moved them to the right side
as the rage inside me rose

the woman tapped my window
and said your cat is dead
it was two days before Christmas
she roused me from my bed

there was display of feeling
tears could not be be shed

gray fades to black
hello sadness my old friend


Copyright © Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |
Lurching yet graceful ,the old black cat sets off.
Slowly he circles the edges of the garden in joy.
In the car ,though still in a shut basket,
He always knew when we came to the turning of the road.
Was it the cherry trees in blossom,a scent
Or something we could never be aware of?
I would open his basket in the car.
He comes out and descends so carefully
Onto the pavement,then tries to bound up the path,
The long wooded back garden is his total joy.
He would sit watching tiny frogs in a deep pond in the sun.
No doubt he longed to catch one.
He once brought a robin indoors,
The bird was completely unharmed.
Must have been his gift to me
We released it later after its shock had worn off.
Now he can only hobble,
And soon, his thinness warns me, he'll be gone.
No cat has ever loved or will love like this cat,
A rescued, terrified animal.
His eyes say everything to me.
I look into their clear-jewelled greenness
I look into a deep,still glowing sea of light.
The last day,finally, all day,he's on my knee.
I say"goodbye,goodbye,Pussy".
And he's gone,just before tea.
Now the garden seems empty.
Love leaves a gap.
Love leaves us bare
Love leaves us stripped.
Yet Love is eternal grace.
A mystery of faith.
I believe.

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |
If I had a bottle of pills
I’d dump them out inside my mouth
Take the last few swigs of vodka
And swallow all of them down

If I had a big sharp knife
I’d drag the cold steel across my skin
If I thought for a moment it might
Bring this feeling to an end

I’d stare down the barrel
If I had a gun
Find the trigger with my finger
Pull it and be done

If I had a car
I’d park inside the garage
Leave the motor running
Till the poison filled my lungs

If I had a rope
I’d make myself a noose
Dangle there in my own doorway
Till somebody cut me loose

If I had someone to love
I'd probably treat them bad
Since that's all that I've known
In relationships of the past

 If I had a heart in my chest
I'd be able to forgive and forget
But there is nothing left
Of that beating mass of flesh

So I'll just continue
Sitting all alone and in the dark
A typical evening in with the cat
Doesn't seem that bad after all.

Copyright © Lisa Hicks | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
   his untimely end.

He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends.  I do care.”

Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.

So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?

We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.

Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.

He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.

“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him... oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.

And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…

There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight 
   to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.

“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy.  You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats.  It’s up to you”.

As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred.  I almost cried.

On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.

But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.

But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.

For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea, 
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me.  Please, take me”.

“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.

In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.

Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |
Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome. 
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome. 
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.

Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |
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

Details | Free verse |
I would give anything 
For one last kiss 
One more goodbye 
That would last for eternity 
I miss you every waking hour 
In my dreams I feel you, your soft fur 
In my dreams I hear you, purring 
I know you visit me while I sleep 
My angel, keeping me company 

In my life for 23 years 
Now gone for 10 
The pain still as raw 
I still cry at photos 
Of you so happy, alive and with me 
You ran into my open arms 
Welcomed me home every day 
The memories we shared, now locked away, safe. 

I watched you fade and could take no more 
I couldn't see you suffer 
The doctors tried to make you better 
Then the dreaded news 
They could not win, I had to let you go 
The red injection took you slowly away 
Your life slipped away in my arms 
The Angels took my place 
Gone forever, but never forgotten 
As the memories remain 

In my heart and in my soul 
They took a piece of me with you 
When they took you from this earth 
I thank you for the years of comfort 
I thank you for being my friend 
I thank you for making me smile 
For letting me cry into your fur 
And for licking my tears away with you rough tongue 
The entertainer of the family 
Mummys boy and confidante 
Always at my side 
I now pray to Saint Francis to keep you safe in heaven 
Until we meet again 
You are gone but you live on with all of us in our memories 

So remember my baby, my faithful furry friend 
Mummy will always love you 
Together until the end 
Here's a great big cuddle 
Until we meet again........................


Copyright © Sarah Bryant | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Not long before I put down my dirt filled hoe
Into my yard she quietly crept
It’s as though she knew I needed her cheer
She was rust colored and sadly matted cat
Not the most attractive feline I’d ever seen 
But she was lonely and hungry, and in need 
Of course immediately my Mothering instinct beckoned 
She followed me to where I poured some milk for her 
Not ever having a cat I didn’t have cat food on hand-
So I opened a can of tuna to her delight 
She lapped it up and looked up at me with a smile 
The next day there she was waiting and the day after and so on 
I had found a friend 
So I went out and bought some cats food 
She was now mine of at least I thought so 
Who could have ever done such a thing?
Leaving her to the streets? 
I bought her flea collar and bells to wear 
Soon she would just sit on my lounge chair waiting for me 
I had to bring her into the house she still looked so frail 
One day while she was eating I noticed her choking on her food 
It continued so I made an appointment to see the vet 
It had to be done anyway after all she was to be mine
While we had our visit and the saddest moment of my life came 
The doctor said she had throat cancer and it was advanced 
Our friend Tabby didn’t but a few weeks to live 
So my husband and I made the pain staking decision  
To put her to sleep 
Tears poured from every corner of my eyes
“No” was all I screamed inside she had brightened my life  
How could someone have left her alone?
The Vet felt the previous owner knew about her condition 
They left her to suffer knowing she was so sick
I felt we at least gave her 6 weeks of love and care before she left this place 
I will never forget the love and championship this rusty feline gave me
Months later my family and I adopted another cat Tabby showed us- 
The greatest love and companionship that animals give you unconditional   
We now have two wonderful cats that were adopted
They bring so much to our lives

Copyright © Laura Mckenzie | Year Posted 2010

Details | Haiku |
Squirrel plays and shakes
 a fist atop the bluebird box....
twelve round stones

Blue feathers strown
empty nesting box today...
old man Tom rest

Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |
The crashing waves hit the bow, as we cut through waters deep.
Clasped in irons that cut the skin; forged in the fires that never sleep.

The desert was dry, the sun beat down, I am free as a bird
The breeze tickled through the oasis, near the camel herd

Now my love is fading, like the burnt embers of those flames.
I am now branded a thief and prisoner, amongst some other names.

The hate I felt for the whore that tried to give his love to me.
Was so strong I felt I could kill him, my love he will never see.

I stole for her a flower, a simple heart felt gift.
The perfume now a memory, on this prison galleon adrift.

I am traveling to my wedding, across the desert so hot and dry.
Perfumed flower petals along the way, by slaves are scattered awry.

Seven years the price for my gift of love it did gain.
Hard labour I endure, to avoid the leather cat pain.

My arms are full of bracelets, and pearls hang round my neck.
I never think of him, now shackled on that deck.

Her kisses sublime, a memory fading, the perfume of her skin and hair
The price is high but I will pay, I took her from him to be fair.

To think I could have kissed. him makes my skin fairly crawl.
But the plan worked well, for my new rich lover, it managed to enthrall.

Slaves to love, there is no choice, when our hearts lead us astray.
I stand here windswept and tear stained, with seven years to pay.

How dry my eyes now he has gone, freedom is beckoning me.
So easy it was to frame him, now he has seven years before he is free.

I stand in the wind, rope in hand, waves crashing all around.
My ankles are bleeding with the chains, and the cat makes a whistling sound.

I lay on cushions with rings on my fingers the slaves are fanning me.
My wrists are bathed in rose oil, and kissed perpetually.

My love is strong, my heart is given, and I know I will endure. 
My love will wait for me, my beauty, my life, my own sweet amour.

Thank goodness I kept my heart for me, and for me alone. 
This thing called love is foolish, my heart it has never known.

In collaboration with Declan Fitzgerald who started the story off which made it easy to alternate my side of the story as a femme fatale between his couplets.

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
Awoke in the dark upon my bed
With the cat sleeping on my head,
Grabbed my socks and blew my nose
Tried to pull my hanky onto my toes.

I knew something wasn’t right
Shoulda turned on the light.
Staggered to the kitchen,
While the cat was kickin’...

Seems I put her food in the litter box,
And now she’s going into detox.
Where in the heck is the coffee pot?
Sure am trippin’ a lot.

I knew something wasn’t right.
Shoulda turned on the light.
Time for me to go to work,
Gotta get the coffee to perk.

Tastes awful weak without the grounds.
Time to go to work and make my rounds,
On no …. that’s right… I Lost my job!
Oh well, might just go for a jog.

I knew something wasn’t right. 
Shoulda turned on the light.

Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |
From the wood where coyotes play
Blackie cat came on a summer’s day.
Called seemingly, to fill the place 
where Rocky the cat lay dreaming.

A proud old tom who’d seen his end
Rocky had held it long at bay.
A Guardian was he of Mom you see, 
but when he passed she’d stay.

And he’d not leave till he knew
she would not be alone…
He’d found ole Blackie for her
to give them both a happy home.

Blackie and he had many a day
of lolling in the grass and sun.
But Rocky’s porch he would not share
that was for Mom and he the only one.

She feed them both, each to his own
and cared for both in kind.
Rocky’s plan, he was the man…
was to not leave her alone inside.

So, Rocky's sweet self sacrifice
of staying much too long
was blessed with painless passing
He died in Mommy’s arms.

Now everyday, ole Blackie comes
as Rocky told him too.
To keep his Mommy company
another Guardian true.

Still too frightened to come inside, 
Mom’s sure he will one day. 
And on that day they’d both be sure
that Blackie’d come to stay.

*Debbie Guzzi

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
I spotted a lonely cat dressed in a purplish blue
laying on a log remembering her love so untrue;
yards away, a couple watched in disbelief...
wondering if that was the cause of her grief?

I saw four brown kittens at her feet playing; 
they rolled in the dirt and kept on raising dust,
chewing on twigs thick with moss and frost...
she looked at them with motherly feeling. 

Those kittens weren't hers, her desire to adapt
them was strong, but to have the littlest one
was harder than rolling another heavy stone; 
hours passed and she remained where she sat.

Do cats have feelings like us with profound thoughts
of fidelity and trust? Do they behave differently?
From what I had seen, they show sentimentality,
and this cat painted herself in blue to mourn her loss.

Entered in Debbie Gucci's contest,
" Ten Picture, Ten Poems, Ten Poets, Ten Days "
Written on 1/ 7/ 2016
Poem # 3    

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
Today, it just doesn't seem fair
That we are still able to breathe.
They have given us their air-
Our duty to lead the life they leave.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2012

Details | Blank verse |
A cat, snoozing on my bed, black as night.
Curled around, his tale in his face. 
Eyes flicker open, revealing eyes like brilliant beryl.
A soft meow issues from him, implying that he want's a scratch.

He is a beautiful cat, 
my best friend...the friend who has always been there for me. 
No matter what. The friend I've had the longest.

For all of my life, I've had to move every 3 years.
The burden of an army brat.
15 years I've had to take that, 
my friends being ripped away, 
just as I'm really getting to know them.

Can you imagine that? 
Not having a friendship that lasted for more than 3 years?

Then, when I was 7, Sammy was brought into my life. 
A miracle. A street cat, disowned by the family of his owner, 
left to fend for himself,
in the busy town of Barstow, California. 
Nobody wanted this cat, the obsidian feline, 
the bringer of misfortune. 

I was going to adopt one cat, a calico. Then I saw him.
All alone, being hissed at by the very cat I was to adopt.
Right there I decided.
As so many children say for other pets. "That one."

From then on we had a friendship, 
no matter the times. 
My best friend, to the day. 

A friend like no other,
a cat unlike any other,
why should anyone ever bother?

Because they make the best friends,

Copyright © Zach Nathan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
There once was a cat who had only one ear,
alas, only one ear had he.
How it was lost, one can only excogitate,
where it had gone, none had seen.

It could be contested it was intercepted,
by misfortune sneaking about it.
It was deemed quite plausible and not that improbable,
that carelessness, sadly, had found it.

-But the fact remained square, that it wasn't there,
and there was nothing more to say.
When asked if he missed it, he said, quite dismissive,
"I never saw it anyway".

Copyright © David Dowling | Year Posted 2009

Details | Light Poetry |
My cat Jones I got one day
When she was only one that day
She makes me laugh and smile
All the while
I've had her for years now
And she still makes me happy anyhow
Her colors of gray and butterscotch they say
I love you everyday
She's my best cat I've had all these days
But now i am sad these days
Cause she passed away

Copyright © Eve Anderson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
I was going to write you a poem
but my cat lay in the road.
I scraped up his remains with a shovel
paced them in a plastic bag,
dropped it into a dumpster.

I was going to write you a poem
but in my fridge is a half can of cat food,
with a cellophane lid,
useless and taking up space. 

Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2008

Details | Epitaph |
(This is a fictional poem)

I lost a lot of hair and I wore a toupee.
But a freak gust of wind blew it off my head yesterday.
I couldn't afford a new toupee so I wore my cat on my head.
I thought it would fool people but it made them laugh instead.
When I saw that people knew that my cat wasn't a toupee, my face turned red.
That darn cat scratched, bit and even ____ on my head.

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |
Dear cat,
I found another cat
Don’t be jealous now
I love it so
Because it looks like you
Only younger
Like you were
When you first came home.

I don’t know if it’s a he or a she
But it’s a playful little thing
It has a grey mummy
Who takes care of it
Who bites it when they play
And licks the dirt
Out of its fur

It is trustful
It comes under my armpit
When I write in bed
Or crawls on anyone’s lap
And sleeps
When it’s cold outside

Unlike you
It never sleeps alone
Never seeks its own space
Never wants to cuddle alone
With no one close to it
Maybe it learnt to trust
Unlike you do
Because it has the kind of mother
That you never had.

You grew up independent
Looking after your own back
Coming to the house 
Only when hungry
Or when you wanted 
to sleep in peace
Maybe they took you 
away from your family
Too early

Why you never even play
With your twin sister
You’re suspicious of your own mother
Every time she passes by
You shriek
And your father
That cat blacker than the night
You’re always fighting him
I hear you most nights
Then I see blood on you nose 
In the morning
Or a patch of fur missing
And claw scars in their place

If you were human
Yours would be called
A dysfunctional family

I hope I have treated you well
All the days you’ve been my pet
I hope you had a little taste
Of what your mother
Didn’t give you

I miss you plenty
When I come back- if I come back
Will you remember me?
Will you remember I left?
And feel I neglected you

I am only human,
More than that
I never stick around
And move around I must
Sometimes I come back
This time I may not

I hope they take care of you
Give you food
To be stronger against your daddy
I hope they hive you space
To be the independent cat you are

And I
I will remain with memories
When I meet other cats
Like the kitten I have now
Cats with White with black patches
 Over their eyes
Who look a lot like you

Or better still
I‘ll just look at your photo
The one I put on facebook
And when I miss you real bad
I only have to look.

Copyright © HELLEN MASIDO | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |
I know it is not so
but I have the clear feeling
that at any moment
you will open the door
with your noisy key ring,
and I will hear distinctly
the off-key sound
of your slow and heavy steps
that no longer drag slowly
through my living room hall
which is now silent,
mute in its halftones. 
I know it's not so
but you will put down your bag
stuffed with papers in confusion,
on the table set for two
even though we are four,
but two of us will be in the bedroom
and won't want to dine, but
we will steal from your plate,
and you'll get upset
but you don't know how to fight,
and the argument will end with the providential
increase in the volume of the television,
that now is full of silly programs
because nothing is fun anymore.
Life drags on,
empty in its own apathy. 
You will talk about your day,
and you'll ask about ours,
and I'll be in a hurry,
going out to some rehearsal.
I'll shout that I can't right now,
that tomorrow I won't go out
and in the morning, making the strong, black coffee,
we'll talk about the script,
you'll give me some ideas 
I'll love to slip into the context
althought now this actress
no longer cares how she performs
because the fantasy is gone,
the scene has no more magic
and just repeats itself alone
on the stages I no longer trod. 
You'll ask,
and I'll help you put on your socks
having you sit on the bed
while our cat snores
in a light ending sleep.
Yet, you'll play with me
in your special way
that makes any single day
seems like Christmas,
with your salad sauce
that no one any longer tastes.
The 25th hides its face
at midnight, Jesus is not born
and the miracle is not the same. 
On Valentine's Day
you will buy two roses,
one of them you'll give to mom
and the other one is always mine
for I'll always be your little girl
who doesn't have a boyfriend anymore,
who has no joy, and
who counts the hours of the day
just to know the day has gone. 
I know it's not so
but I'll see you at any moment
when I lay my eyes
on our garden,
missing your confident hands
pruning its dead branches
like now it is dead our house. 
And like me,
our cat waits for you
every night at eight o'clock
under the doorjamb,
on the rug in the hall,
to say you are welcome,
to be happy you are home,
but our expectations fail,
for your arrival is delayed,
you won't arrive at all,
and there's no more future
for there's no more noise
of your key ring in the knob.

Copyright © Patricia Henriques | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
For my sister, Sami, because this morning one of our four Maine Coons suddenly and unexpectedly died... Haughty snobbish tomcat tap water trample cat never inside brat inferiority complexity acrobat My Maine man My Coon, I didn't expect you'd go so soon *** June 3, 2017 Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Dramatic Verse |
By Stanley Russell Harris
The new mad author.
And Poetry Soup Honourably Mentioned.

Are you feeling overfed?   Do you enjoy stuffing your head?
Actually I meant your mouth.  But this is poetry about your health!
Rhymes are hard when I can’t say.  You are really fat today.
No, I must say, body mass index, or overweight
As fat is what upsets your plate.

Especially when it is dry, it has to be scraped off, I sigh.
So if you are overweight from fat.  Just stop eating too much of that.
And if you eat healthily!
The fat you have may soon go.  Unless you have an illness so.
Then to Doctors you must flow.  And perhaps they’ll help your fat to go.
Or body mass index or overweight.
So, remember to leave that fat upon your plate.

NB.  I was once told once by my GP.  My body mass index, although it was called my BMI, was 27.47133, which meant not a blinking thing to I.

Eat drink and be merry at Christmas time, but remember the golden rule, Do not drink, do drugs recreational or medical and drive. That way I can annoy you all next year. lol 

This poem was inspired as I was writing my life story and I mentioned I would not eat a piece of gristly fat. My foster mother made me sit at the table and made me miss a Sunday afternoon's play I was only about 8 at the time. The only consolation I had was none of the cats she had or the strays she fed would eat it. And yes I did smile when I saw her put the offending lump of gristly fat in the dustbin. <

Copyright © STANLEY Harris | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
She stepped into the blue ocean of morning, 
and looked up towards the sky
& as her gaze moved up and up,
something odd, atop a willow caught her eye

There, in the tall thin branches, 
swaying in the wind,
a still & silent tabby was 
curled amongst its limbs

She shouted to it, clapped her hands, 
her dogs enhanced the sound
but the cat just lay there, never moving –
its silence was profound

Knowledge that the cat was dead
slid slowly down her face
in bitter tears that came unbidden
with grief’s wet, salty taste

She struggled back into her house
through mourning’s heavy waves
& tried to ponder what to do,
and who to call to save

At least the body of this once fine cat,
to bring it back to ground -
She imagined how it sought its safety
then could not climb back down,

& how it sat there, starving, thirsty,
forever trapped in that green embrace –
She couldn’t stand it, went back outside,
but when she looked, saw only space

The cat was gone! Had played great possum,
just pretended to be dead!
And what she’d believed to be total truth
was just a story in her head

Then laughter hit her, exploded from her,
joy blazed throughout her soul
as the crystal blue promise of the ocean of morning
was restored, renewed, and made whole

© March 2006
RG Hudson

Copyright © Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson | Year Posted 2006

Details | I do not know? |
black cat
in the night
in the light
black cat
eyes of green
in the stream
black cat
cross my path
he does have
black cat
goes to sleep
his memory
i do keep

Copyright © lucy campbell | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme |

Fat,fluffy and snow-white. Pink ears,nose & feet;with a smile oh so sweet! Eyes that 
are big and blue;they seem to say,"I love you!"


Copyright © Christi Palmer | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |
(This is a fictional poem)

I'm a bounty hunter and my name is Cat.
But people don't give a man respect with a name like that.
I called myself Dog at first but I didn't realize that name was stolen.
The real Dog beat me senseless and my face is still swollen.
Bailjumpers always kick my butt when I try to bring them in.
I made a pass at Dog's wife and he beat the hell out of me again.
When I tried to bring a man in yesterday, he hit me in the balls with a bat.
He hit them so hard that he mashed them flat.
They look like two tiny pancakes and they're bruised.
Being a bounty hunter wasn't a good career for me to choose.

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2007

Details | Verse |
The gloomy day extended into two
Still I am wondering where you are.
Am I the lonely one, a fish out of water
If only you had stayed a little longer
Me thought we were meant to be together
Sweet nymph, you were more like a brother

While my mind thinks of the worst
The anguished heart hopes for the best
Still holding on to the cherished memories
Have you taken abode with the good fairies? 
A feeling of loss – will you ever come back? 
Hassle yet tender, you have left behind a mark.

I bid thee well noble comrade, farewell
With a hope that the other home is swell
May be on someday we shall meet
In the new world that is calm and neat
Holding you tight I smooch your fur 
Safe in my arms, you will gently purr. 

[This poem is dedicated to my lost cat, named Pinky]  

Copyright © Mary Bindhu | Year Posted 2011

Details | Dramatic Verse |
(This is a true story)

Buster was my cat and he was the best.
He died this morning and I'm depressed.
My cousin gave him to me and I was happy to get him.
He was a loveable cat and I'll never forget him.
I got him in 1996 when he was just a kitten.
When I saw him for the first time, I was smitten.
It was hard to say goodbye.
His death brought tears to my eyes.
He was solid white and he was fat.
Today I lost a truly wonderful cat.

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |
The black cat leaps across the road
It's worst enemy snapping at it's heels
Wounded cat pulls itself across the white line
Too late, hind legs dragging lifelessly behind
Half filled with life and the will to survive
Half dead and broken
Struggling to survive, his blood spills as does human
Life leaks out

The body lies in ICU
The life still beating through her
The life, machines provide
Thoughts are gone
Mindless, nothing
As good as dead
The life is pumped in 

Serial killer caught in the act
Fighting, struggle
The priest grasps hold on the gun
The killer is dead
Long black robes rustle in the wind
Praying over the body
The priest's cross breaks from his neck
Lands on the bloodied dirt
Gods work with Satans sword
The Child is saved

Copyright © Leann Stoll | Year Posted 2008