a cat killed by curiosity doesn't die in the
shame of those who warned him about
the dangers of venturing into
his lifelong dreams

he dies in recognition to
his dreams that pierce
the soft gray clouds
and rise - rise high
into the night stars
far-away and
yonder.

My cat’s timing is
impeccable.
I’ve been slothful
with writing lately,
and the cats play
the antagonist.
I sit in my
favorite chair and
put some Vivaldi on.  
I’m determined to write.

As soon as I pick up
my notebook and pen,
the black one with
the white spot on
her neck jumps on  
my lap and bites at
the moving ink pen.

Her sister chases
imaginary bugs on
the coffee table, and
knocks over a slim
glass of water.
She runs away.

The newest edition to
my cat family is a
large tiger stripped
female that is
currently trying to
avoid the puddle, while
she bats at the
leaves of the fig tree.

I bet Bukowski
didn't have to
deal with this ****.
On second thought,
he probably did.

cute kitty cat
kitty on my back
kitty on my lap
kitty sleeping on the rag
kitty sleeping on the mat
kitty killing rat
kitty loving cat

Beneath the Eiffel's iron lace,
A tabby cat prowls with feline grace,
Past Arc de Triomphe, she sets her pace,
On moonlit nights down the Champs Élysées.

Prowling around cafés and bustling streets, She slips into wine-soaked conversations, Witnessing love's soft declarations,
While dodging bikes and hurried feet.

Her whiskers twitch at fresh baguettes,
As dawn breaks on the Seine's calm flow, Lounging, watching artists come and go,
From her sun-kissed, with a view parapet.

Notre Dame's gargoyles watch her pass,
Through shadows of restored spires,
In all its reverent wonder, to be admired
As pigeons scatter on morning mass.

Up to Montmartre's charm and winding ways,
She naps peacefully on warm window sills,
As church bells toll from sacred hills,
Lost in the wonders of her Parisian days.

©️Lizzie Bevis

The tendons strained as muscles tensed
Hind legs wobbled in impatient anticipation
The prey grazed slowly upon springs bounty
A twig snapped sounding natures alarm
Crows called cooing caws as they took wing
A ****** predicting the coming violence
The die having been cast elicited a roar
Potential energy unleashed sprang an ambush
Teeth and claws punctured and lacerated flesh
Jaws clenched throat choking life from limb
Latent spasms birthed pleasurable moans
The irony of blood tasted copper coins
As stipes became lost in red matted fur
The **** draining the thrill of the hunt
While the tiger ate his fill

Whiskers twitching, sharp and keen,  
prowling silently, slinking, unseen.  
With curious eyes, so alert and bright,  
investigating all within their sight.  
So lithe and nimble, quick to pounce,  
on playful paws as they bat and bounce.  
A skilful mouser, stealthy predator,  
a beast of surprise and graceful wonder.  
Yet gentle too,
when snuggled up having a nap,  
curled up and content in my cosy lap.  
As comforting purrs soothe my weary soul,  
making me feel loved, at peace and whole.  
My treasured companion and loyal friend,  
Aloof yet loving, wild yet tamed,  
my mysterious moggy a master of might,
endlessly captivating me with pure delight.

©️Lizzie Bevis

Had a chat with my cat.
Now how about that?
She spoke with a twitch of whisker
and slow blinked her eyes to whisper
that she’s feeling quite content
to be in this moment.
For though she’s told me her life story
of all the times she’s been crowned in glory
by defeating her toy mice —
which is really not a vice —
it’s in the here and now
with no sweat upon her brow
that she’s glad to becuddle me
and from worry be wild and free.
Watch her fur belly rise and fall
and her purr keeps me in her thrall
as I scratch her fluffy chin
and feel peace spread within.