Ailurophile poems on Hello Poetry

Diana Jan 2014

There’s this lady down my street
Who makes me kind of sad to see
Her house is smells kind of vile
She’s an ailurophile

She’s got about ninety of them
She started hoarding since the day when
Her husband died, long ago
And to her, that was quite a blow

So she started hoarding little friends
Who love her to no end
She takes care of them all so well
Something everyone can tell

The little old lady down my street
Is actually very, very sweet
With her pets and her home she feel safe and cozy
This nice old lady is quite fogey

Haley Smith Feb 2016

Ailurophile

You Furtive grace entices me
Pulling me into your emerald eyes
Jumping from place to place
Enticing deep serenity
Your lithe body allowing you to do things no other could
Purring at my slightest touch
You're a species of grace and ferocity
Of spontaneity and serenity
Your movements toward me mellifluous
Gazing into my soul
You capture my heart
A myriad of emotions flow off you
But you're just an effervescent cat
An old friend of mine
A God/Goddess in Egypt
Worshiped and loved
Your curiosity sometimes getting the best of you
But forever you'll take a place in my heart
Gaining my unwavering love
For I am an ailurophile

Nichole Aug 2017

Ailurophile

Like a chatoyants
So pretty to look at
A colmely and dulcet
A individual you doesn't want to upset
Gives you a felicity
A glamourous beauty
Halcyon person
Is like a lagniappe
To give

#cat #person #love #precious #girls #woman #boys

Kim Rodrigues Feb 2017

THE AILUROPHILE CHILD

angels glimpse
spryness

of mirthful eyes
and volcanic cheeks

as puffy snowballs leap
about

chatoyant eyes glide
side to side

halcyon hands stroke
chalkboard hue

erasing frenetic world
prowling paws stir

snippets of serenity
beautiful dreams

shyness sheltered
in nuzzled fur

~ sadness scurries ~
purr of laconic

loneliness of
an only child

Kim Rodrigues © 2017

#lonely #cat #child

Mahima Gupta Dec 2013

Malady.

The corpse lied untouched, 
In the crepuscular light,  
her shadow enkindled.  
Her kins stood panic-stricken.  
Her fidelity was being questioned.  
It was time now for the sun to set.  
The birds were finding there way. 
Migrating
 Also,suffering.  
And the darkness was about descend like everyday  
The shadows seemed to be taking over the grimaced faces  
But she however,  
Was trying to resurrect her soul.
 This was the epitome of her infatuation.  
But she had always been an Ailurophile,
Always.

Mahima Gupta Sep 2014

Can't think of a title :3

I used to be a writer once
Now I stare at blank pages
Cursing my insanity
Looking for my muse she's lost
Roaming about the streets in mismatched socks.

I used to be a dreamer once
Before the accident turned me blind
Now I see blurred visions
Of the demons in my head
Now I sleep at night, I sleep throughout the year.

I used to be an ailurophile
Before curiosity killed the cat
Trips of imagination were games that we played
Before it crossed the path of a million souls
They stopped, dreaming, talking, living.

I used to be human
Before I lost faith in mankind
I was drunk and so the mishap occurred
I killed my cat
I stopped writing was why I couldn't write.

rm Nov 2018

the pyrrichs

she was an
ailurophile
he was a
cynophilist
now,
how come
she likes him?
and
he likes her?
when both
can only offer
the opposites
of the other.

how did they
find such
unraveled red
knots?
when they were
too twisted,
too unread.

how were they
able to say
that they liked
each other's
symphony
with wafture
of those warm hands
reaching for such
woebegone faces
with little traces
of summery
and misery.

and finally
how can she
and he
stay with each
other's plea
in a world
full of
uncertainties?

if they could,
and would,
they are pyrrichs.

— The End —