Gracefully stalking utterly feminine she walks.
Quietly purring in a contralto she talks.
Constantly groomed with tongue and claw,
she holds me in awe.
Casually splayed upon the couch she lies.
Vaguely helpless, in parting she cries.
Compact and light, healthy and whole,
she captures my soul.
She walks alone wherever she goes.
At night in bed she nibbles my toes.
Her feral nature disguised from me,
the danger I see.
Perilous? Yes assuredly!
Utterly she is of me.
My heart is bruised
by her caress.
Copyright D. Clancy (1988)
Authors note to readers: Nothing to do with cats.