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The Pleasure of Her Company
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I once had an old calico cat
She was born in a barn
On a farm down the road
She would race around the new mown hay
Chasing mice at play
Putting on a wild display
She was known to be a shrew
Several chickens she pursued
Was known to chase an old hound too
A bit of a brat
She thought herself a Super-cat!
My intentions were genuine
Deep with affection…
I had just seen a movie
About a man with the gift
He would whisper to horses…and turn them into bliss
Well, I thought I will do this!
Tame this feral kitty’s angry hiss!
I would whisper ever softly,….
And teach soon her to love me
Domesticated out of nature
She would stretch by the stove
As the tea pot tune's a-whistling
She would put on a pot of bristling
She could not be held
Even by me
She was not for the weak
Or the meek of heart
She would pick and choose
Who would win, who would lose
A limb, an eye, or a piece of her mind
Yet sometimes….even I…was deemed
With the privilege of her esteemed
Company
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Copyright ©
Carrie Richards
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