Tuesday, 6 October 2009

Tommy the Cat

The poet who understands cats has I think not yet been born. All I know for certain about cats is that they don't like the wind in the trees. And I don't even know that for an absolute certainty. But today it is windless. So why is Tommy the Cat spending the day here? No, I've no idea either. His nose is slightly scabbed as if he's been involved in a scuffle or perhaps caught himself up in a bramble. His ginger and white coat is a tad duller than I remember. But then that's only to be expected for like all of us he's getting a little older by the day...

Tommy the Cat

The first time Tommy came
it was to say goodbye
for someone in the bed upstairs
had breathed her final sigh.

4.30 in the morning 'twas
when Tommy slipped through the door
and trotted up the stair
to stand beside her door.

Since then he comes 'bout once a year
or maybe sometimes twice
he calls to check on how we are
and perhaps to look for mice.

He braves the crow that flies at him
and braves the winter snows
plodding round the neighbourhood
when lonely he patrols.

But now he's here and in my chair
and he won't go away
he's been here since the crack of dawn
and looks as if he'll stay

Till night at least or maybe longer
for who knows what's going on
behind those curtained eyes of green
and in the purring of his song.



  1. Three super poems Poet - all had for me a tinge of sadness to them too.
    I remember the old lion eggs - that took me back a bit.
    I take it from your comment that he finally decided not to have a dog or a cat that you have neither (apart from that chap who adopts you and sits in your chair now and again). I could not live without my dog for company - nor could I manage without cats around, even if only in the farmyard.
    As far as that cat in your chair is concerned - remember the old saying,
    "I am the cat who walks alone - all places are alike to me." You can own a dog but you can never own a cat - lovely poems all.

  2. Thanks for your kind comments, Weaver.

    I'd have a Border Collie if I lived in Yorkshire. I'd take him running with me over the fells.

    GS has two cats. Or perhaps, as you say, they have him. But then he has the peripatetic lifestyle a cat might identify with. I suspect he'll have a scrap of a dog for the evening pub walk in his sunset years.

  3. Cats are very friendly beasts:
    They love to sit and purr
    And close their eyes in ecstasy
    As you lightly stroke their fur.

    But if you were small and they were large
    Would they return the favour?
    Would they stroke you, or would they show
    More interest in your flavour?

  4. Size isn't everything, Dominic.


    ° °
    = § =

    I'd never harm a fly!


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