Ailurophile’s Muse

Awakened this time by thunderous scepters

Slicing and flashing their way,

Through the bedroom air

Of morning’s first breaths.

 

Feeling her fully stretched across

The length of his weary torso,

Her chest rising and falling

Serenely with the breeze of day’s first blush.

 

She and He, Together, Partners in Crime

Awake Now,

And ready to stalk the bewitching hours

For elements of Truth.

Handcrafted poetry by John Hines, 01/17/2016

I recently read On Cats by Charles Bukowski and Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot-both outstandingly enjoyable collections of poetry. The choice of these readings was inspired by the presence in our lives of a rescue kitten we adopted a little over a year ago, a Russian Blue mix who was born in an automotive garage and who lost part of her tail in a little accident while living there.  Always dog people having watched two Labrador Retrievers grow up with our children, we had never had a cat.  Each day with her we are ever ever more amazed by her impact on our family and her mysterious ways.  I tried to capture part of that amazement in this short poem.

Our girl also makes an appearance in a poem I wrote and posted at the end of last week (https://coachhinesblogs.com/2016/01/15/sirens-of-predawn).  The predawn hours can be special moments for writers and cats alike!  Thank you for reading :).