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Black Cat Month 2021

October 2021

These two poems appear in my poetry volume, Solstice II. No. 6 is entitled “The Gabrielle”; No. 7 is “My Annabelle”.


The month of October is Annabella’s Month, no matter where she is. Presently, she is in her celestial cachette. Gabrielle, the Snowshoe cat, is currently curled up in her cat bed, atop her “magic towel” (feline electric heating pad) — in the newly constructed detached garage at our dream home, Larkhaven.


I hope that you enjoy my reading of my own poetry, an activity I am not often wont to do. For two exceptional cats, I most joyously make this exception!




6. The Gabrielle


She is quite pampered

now,

She could not go back

to living in a tree.

Besides, that tree has been

cut down

totally.

She sits upon the stump

Sometimes,

and recalls

the perils of her early life:

sleeping among the white

smelly nectarines

on one branch out of three.

It was no home

for this exquisite

Snowshoe kitty!


She is quite proud

Of her plumage

-- whiskers for any other

cat --

and she loves to climb

and hunt mice,

not quite killing them

she hits them with her

q-tip paw,

like a little bat.


At nighttime

She steps into her bed,

a toweled tuffet.

In the day

she sleeps like little

Miss Muffet

by the lavender

in the sun.


The Gabrielle is

quite a cat all around,

but she is

also faithful

as a hound!


Her eyes are bleary blue

but loving too.

She is a queen in her

cat castle,

a garage with spacious rafters.


We like to call her

Gabby

at times

she is so vocal

she deserves

this verse and rhyme!

Debra L. Milligan

15 July 2014



7. My Annabelle


This black cat

Is so sleek

with her silky fur

combed and brushed

and cleaned.

She slides into her

Cleopatra pose

upon the grooming mat.

You’d never know

the tall grass was once

her habitat.


Living off the land,

one bird in her mouth,

one bird in her hand,

she stalked the ground as if

she owned it.

At first we called her

John Robie.

She turned her nose up

at “the set-up”

that her sister,

The Snowshoe,

showed to her:

fresh water and crunchy cat food,

but somehow

boxed vittles would not do.


Then I took her into hand

and I gave her the prime command:

A black cat is not all you will be.

I have a future for you and me.


She now is a character in fiction,

posted in pictures among

electrons.

She remains

invisible most of the time,

but fame and fortune

might one day arrive

to end this state sublime.

Debra L. Milligan

15 July 2014

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