You are my goddess, my precious Mom,
I must needs purr forth your name.
You put a blanket across your lap
and bid me lie down upon it.
You call me Eddie and Mr. Fang,
Bitey Boy when I bite your nose.
Not in my nature to ask you forgive;
you taste so much sweeter than rodents.
You know I am special for none can compare
with Eddie Spaghetti fine feline.
If your consort grows allergic to cats,
he knows he’ll be out on the sidewalk.
You lift me up high so that I can fly,
I know you would never drop me.
Hold me to your bosom and kiss my lips.
Your consort must kiss my forehead.
You praise my long legs, my many-toed feet,
truly a mouse’s great terror.
You make sure my crunch bowl will never run out.
You mince my wet food into tiny bits,
for my teeth grow older as do we both,
we’ve many a fine year together.
It’s true you and I make each other gods;
we’d never be complete without us.
Someday we’ll cross over the misty bridge;
your consort may come if you must insist,
for I am magnanimous as are you,
and we’ll live together forever.
.
~ Wry Welwood
May 2023.
For my beloved wife, Martha.
*Polydactyl cats are mutations who have more than 5 toes in a paw, sometimes resulting in a mitten appearance. They are found in Wales, Southern England, and Eastern United States. They were prized by sailors for their vermin hunting prowess.
Published 20th of May in Scrittura on Medium
and 11th of June 2023 for Shadow in Light on Substack.
Love this poem, Roy . . . Great voice