Fluffy, funny friends
They rub when we slap
They run when we walk
They chase when we eat
They sleep when we work
They love when we hate
Truly the best are cats

By Unknown

cats at the table
purr at the poetry book
as if playing jazz:
furry philosophers
analyzing human art?

.......................................it                        ­     is
                                     a cat's                      duty
                                 ­ to be cute                 and purr
                           when petted to not come when called  
                          unless there is food involved and then
                      it should ( @ ) be fish, milk ( @ ) or cheese
                       beef in gravy, chicken in sauce or a can of
---------------smelly cat food that (**) makes the poor dog-----------------
 ----------------- salivate feeling  deprived as he looks at---------------------       
                            his dish of kibbles so dry so boring
                             thinking why not me I could be a
                                  cat I could learn to purr and         
                                          check me out I'm
                                              already cute
                                                   (    )
                                                   (    )
                                                   (    )

THE OLD WOMAN AND HER OLD CAT

Beside me sit and purr my cat,
So cute a kitten when you sat
On my lap when l brought you here
To live with me so small and dear.

I was then greying when you were
A little kitten of soft fur.
I used to feed your little mouth
And watch your small teeth in their growth.

Your heart and mine both beat us through
To this old age with its sad view.
We both sit near this well lit stove
And think a lot before we move.

My cat, you are my dearest friend;
You shared my trip to this old end.
I wonder if we'll meet up there,
Where life will be quite free from care.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

Princess  smooth  cool  Princess.
Will  you  ever  be.
Contented  through  your  lifetime.
To  forever  stay  with  me.

Princess  perfect  Princess.
Your  head  I  gently  pat.
As  you  purr  softly  on  my  knee.
A  contented  little  cat.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.

I suppose there has to be a reason
or at least a note
to mark that day--

He ate his breakfast
She let him out
He walked along the railing like the plank
defying death for pleasure
of his lady's company
to get his belly rubbed
sprawled long
across her lap

She released him
to chase the squirrels of his dreams
to his black cat adventures
to the aching green of life's
late summer ways

But, the days assemble against your return

May the angels find you quickly
my darling, Bailey
Dark beauty of coal
I was a Tuesday, bereft
You disappeared--
like the shadow of a whisper

Disappeared like hope--
in the last blow of day

Many a human being is smitten
When they come face to face with small furry kitten.
And theys hardly need much -
Just some cat food and such.
Oh yes, don't forget a small box they can **** in.

Never sure who's boss between us
He comes when called
several minutes later...

Blinking sweetly
smiling as only cats can
Golden, half-moons of sunlit bliss
watch fat yellow-jacket
marginally motivated

The hunt cannot compare
to the soft grass with its tender clover
a  full belly
and the meeter-of-all-needs nearby

But the quick jitter-dance
of an easy moth
sends the tiger
to the jungle of forsythia
Gleaming, stalking stripes
Alternating white of paws in precise approach
The prey?  Too quick
The predator?  Too old and lazy
prefers attention
Lumbers slowly back
lolling against coffee cup
Enough....

On needles of white pine
a secret lion has lain down

waiting only for the lamb

almond fronds for  visions
spidered eyes black a wink kisses
the cheeks   a sunrise nose spry
lips of tangerine peels left after eating  the heart
calmest flowing rivers shoulders of
the places bream nip
for joy under a water slip
she is jungled
shy as the panther in the shadows
sleuthing blending in and standing out
when your eyes do meet a sudden
reality
by god she is  beauty
the forest the green lush
thickets impenetrable dark illusive
illusory a dream a destroyer saviour a wild thing
a nerve fiber a coiled up  bindle  
of masks and hard sharpnesses and soft fur
purr

She comes to me with
seductive expectation
in her alluring grey eyes,
Bewitchingly she crawls
onto my lap, my chest.
Our mutual desire for closeness
quickening the mood
She puts her arms around my neck,
Our eyes locked in an intimate dance.
I take her beautiful face in my hands
stroking it's soft contours, as she
closes her eyes pleasurably succumbing
to the gentleness of my touch.
She begins to softly purr.  

We both understand these brief
loving moments can never last,
owing to my damnable allergy to cats,
Thus, soon back outside she must ****.