Have I done something wrong? I ask him
As he sits in the middle of the room,
Defiance drawn on that resilient back.
But nary a muscle or whisker twitch
I call him, first by his proper name
Then, more pleadingly, by his diminutive
But nary a muscle or whisker twitch.
I ask if he would like his favourite dish
To be brought and placed within paw’s reach
But nary a muscle or whisker twitch.
I tell him how much I love him
And beg to know what angers him,
But nary a muscle or whisker twitch.
In desperation, I get up from my seat
By the fire to go to his side
But nary a muscle or whisker twitch
Before I reach him, though, he turns and leaps
Into my vacant spot, now warmed, and in triumph
Begins to groom himself, in silent victory!
© Pauline Dewberry (1997)
Published in: ‘Purrfect Poetry’ 1999
ISBN No: - 1 901349 08 X (Soft back)
ISBN No: - 1 901349 09 X (Hard back)
"In the middle of a world that has always been a bit mad, the cat walks with confidence."
Roseanne Anderson