Found A New Home

Found A New Home Dedicated to Muffin Left by the road, nobody cared I really hoped that I would be spared. Out for a walk, along came a friend heard my cry, I knew she would bend. Called kitty kitty, then picked me up I was so small, like a little tea cup. Went for a ride, found a new home no longer lost, never alone. Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2001 ©

Found A New Home
Dedicated to Muffin

Left by the road, nobody cared
I really hoped that I would be spared.
Out for a walk, along came a friend
heard my cry, I knew she would bend.
Called kitty kitty, then picked me up
I was so small, like a little tea cup.
Went for a ride, found a new home
no longer lost, never alone.

Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2001 ©

Mr. Spots

Mr. Spots  Scabby, matted – one eye blind you just wouldn’t think – he’d be a find. Hung around – looking sad Didn’t need a cat – he looked bad. Persistent and sure – that old Tom Cat was really skinny – needed some fat. Finally gave in – put some food in a dish let me know – that was his wish. He visits each day – looking shiny and good he knew I would help him – I surely would.  Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2001©

Mr. Spots

Scabby, matted – one eye blind
you just wouldn’t think – he’d be a find.
Hung around – looking sad
Didn’t need a cat – he looked bad.
Persistent and sure – that old Tom Cat
was really skinny – needed some fat.
Finally gave in – put some food in a dish
let me know – that was his wish.
He visits each day – looking shiny and good
he knew I would help him – I surely would.

Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2001©

Just A Cat

Just a Cat  She is - just a cat. A very small presence doesn't take up much space. Large green eyes much too big for her face. She is - just a friend. Happy to be greeting you while purring a quiet tune improving how you feel and never too soon. She is - just a joy. Guarding windows sleeping on the bed chasing unseen ghosts until she's fed. She is - just yours. No other will do her choice is clear with anyone else she would just disappear.  Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2000 ©

Just a Cat

She is – just a cat.
A very small presence
doesn’t take up much space.
Large green eyes
much too big for her face.
She is – just a friend.
Happy to be greeting you
while purring a quiet tune
improving how you feel
and never too soon.
She is – just a joy.
Guarding windows
sleeping on the bed
chasing unseen ghosts
until she’s fed.
She is – just yours.
No other will do
her choice is clear
with anyone else
she would just disappear.

Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2000 ©

The Business of Being Cat

The Business of Being Cat Cats don’t go out with the dogs. It’s not their business to bark, jump and be crazy. Their business, those cats, to sit, stare and sleep all day. To prove who is really the center of the universe. To break the silence of night with frightful sounds to demand a snack when dinner’s been served. Standing guard at windows sleeping in the sun watching clouds float by important business for those cats. Original Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2000©

The Business of Being Cat

Cats don’t go out with the dogs.
It’s not their business
to bark, jump and be crazy.

Their business, those cats,
to sit, stare and sleep all day.
To prove who is really
the center of the universe.

To break the silence of night
with frightful sounds
to demand a snack
when dinner’s been served.

Standing guard at windows
sleeping in the sun
watching clouds float by
important business for those cats.

Original Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2000©

An Impolite Cat

An Impolite Cat - original cat poetry and art by Patricia WalterAn Impolite Cat
What’s for dinner?
Let me outside.
Get out of my chair!
Such demands from
an impolite cat.
She often forgets please,
may I and Thank You,
but purrs a happy tune
for all the tings you do.
She’ll lay on your feet
snuggle in your lap
keep you company
on long, dark nights.
A friend indeed
that impolite cat.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©

Window of Time

window-of-time-1999

Window of Time

She sits at the window
frozen in time.
What does she really see?
Ghosts from the past
a thousand years old
creatures we don’t understand.
Tail twitching, body poised
not moving an inch
mesmerized by the world outside.
A quiet little mouse,
white tailed deer,
or shadows from wind blown trees.
I look, I stare
but I just don’t see
the view from cat’s eyes so intense.
Hours pass, the cat stands guard,
sky bleeding night black to dawn gray.
Night after night
at the window of time
what stories unfold out of sight?

Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©

Independence

Independence - original cat poetry & art by Patricia Walter

Independence

I should have
been named Independence
because that’s how I live my life.
No human ever orders me around.
I’ll sneak away
spend the day in hiding
who cares if they’re looking for me.
Perhaps there’s a time I might decide
to give my human a treat.
I’ll jump on her lap
let her stroke and pet
turn on my purring machine.
I truly delight
to rub my nice human
and circle her legs with great joy.
To those in the know
I look independent
but there’s really a softy inside.

Original Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1998©