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).

JUST ‘TUT’

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.