My brother and his wife has two cats. I’ve tried to carry them once before. The skinny white one, Narla, I would carry like a baby, but then I’d drop her close to the ground because she’d scratch me and struggle to break free. So, fine then. Be that way. Then I carry Kowie. He’s much heavier of the two, more laid back ad casual, but he also doesn’t like me to carry him. He’s fine with other people, and even narla lets my sister carry her. Maye it’s my technique of holding cats.They’re not kittens, they’re 30 years old.
I don’t know why I want to share these two poems. Maybe it’s from working in SPCA op shop, or maybe it’s because I feel like and maybe these poems aren’t half bad. Well, here goes:
(Taken straight from my Wattpad account):
Narla saw that the door was open,
And since her owners were not yet woken,
With her agile speed, and her desperate need,
She went out in search of the sun
Out in the garden, she meowed here and there,
At the trees, and the clouds, to ask if they knew where,
Where the sun was residing because you see she really wanted to know,
For where she lived, it felt like it would snow.
She asked and she asked,
But no one knew the answer,
Until at last she gave up,
And went back to her owner.
Her owner kept on sleeping
not realizing she had been gone
While the cat slipped under the blankets, where she napped all day long.
The next poem will be in the next post, in order to keep it short.