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Book of Remembrance for Cats

Book of Remembrance for Cats
Pet was never mourned as you
Purrer of the spotless hue
Plumy tail, and wistful gaze
While you humoured our queer ways,
Or outshrilled your morning call
Up the stairs and through the hall,
Foot suspended in its fall,
While, expectant, you would stand
Arched, to meet the stroking hand;
Till your way you chose to wend
Yonder, to your tragic end. 
From 'Last words to a dumb friend' by Thomas Hardy


Site copyright Lis Wilks 2007

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