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