Cat Journal

Love In A Rosegarden

She wears a spotty-white star
on her back,
muscled into her full grey fur.
My body shimmers
as she sighs to consent without
protest to my willing palm.
Nestled beside me on a lighthouse
quilt,
she weakly meows to me that she
wants to be with me for the rest
of her life.
I tap her bottom and off she
goes to curiously cat-paradise
in the corners of her freedoms.

Bonnie's cat Honey grabbed the
tip-top of her Christmas tree
and down it toppled,
seasons ago.
I have heard beloved pets talked
about for years.
I share her,
like love in a rose garden.

I can take time
to engineer the imagery of her
remarkable glamour to the mind's eye,
but I can not display my love for her.
It is just there,
within reach,
somehow her conversations linger
like a placid lake
as he cleverly grasps her ears,
and she licks her paws.

The next thing I know she will be
a little older,
and he will too.
The night magic lifts me to tingle
with her tail,
his feet warmed,
the both of us laughing over it.