Saturday, 25 May 2013

J is for Just

J is for Just

If you’re of my vintage, then you will remember that you were either Cliff or Elvis, either Stones or Beatles, and in a similar vein you are either dog or cat.  I was Cliff and Beatles, and am definitely dog!  So I’m particularly proud of this poem.  When I had my horse training business, one of my clients bred foreign shorthair cats.  She had 25 of them.  They never went outside and there were litter trays everywhere in the house!  She asked me to write a poem about the stud cat. They called him Tut (short for Tutankhamen).


He arrives
All talk ends
Honoured by his presence
We greet him with our silence

He stops
Long ears listen – green eyes glisten
And hypnotise
We are speechless.  No one moves

His head held high
He greets us one by one
In his own way – no delay –
A glance
His tall body arches – he moves
One- two- three- four-  such grace
Such elegance.  His face - alert, proud, King of this house
Ruler of all animals – his subjects know their place

His young son leaps from the chair.
For a moment he plays
For a moment a child himself

Pounce, ponder, pause – long pause
A thought in his mind
A moment to think
Then slink
To Her

She speaks to US
He is MAD
A great purr, roll, scratch
Catch attention

It works

She bends down to stroke him
His green eyes disappear

His young son leaps again
Playtime, he thinks
One final purr – then quick – no play
The King is back

The lounge is his jungle
The chairs his trees
What wild fantasies
Such rhythm and grace
What lovelier face
Independent, aloof.  The beauty of youth
Is his forever.

He stops
That look again to us all
Then one- two- three- four
He reaches the door – too soon.

The King has left us.

We silently play with fingers and thumbs
He is still in our minds

Gradually – very gradually – our conversation continues.

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