Friday, 31 July 2015

Purrfect pussy poems

From naughty to nice, sad and sulky, our competition revealed there is a poem for every different type of cat

Last month we ran some of our favourite poems from the British Library archive and asked you to send in your own to our poetry competition. The task of choosing the winners fell to our in-house cat experts, Wendy Gomersall and Kath Hanley. We hope you enjoy their choices.

Our cat Whiskey
Our cat Whiskey
An ordinary cat
A tabby-Siamese cross
Born on a farm
The runt of the litter
The one they could not sell.
Narrowing her eyes
She hypnotised us
With her purring song
And soft miaow.
We were in her thrall
Her offerings were – mouse,
Bird, a squirrel’s head.
At my scolding
She stared intently
Then with complete disinterest
She began to wash
In life her raspy tongue
Washed our hands.
Near death, she tried to lick
And lay there
A soft toy with a red felt tongue
Our cat Whiskey
No ordinary cat.
Doreen Russell

Loving Melody
I thought you were a purring
As I gently stroked your fur
A happy rhythmic trilling
That resonated far
Although it did not vary
And went on and on
More than merely purring
You were singing a little song
You were telling me contentment
Was flowing through your soul
A happy little pussy cat
Happy little girl I’d given you some chicken
And some special milk
Your coat so soft and shiny
It almost felt like silk
Those eyes as green as green as holly, your dainty coral tongue
Your paw clutched at my finger
As if to say I know
You love me so much lady
I cannot talk to you
But I can in little ways
Convey my feeling too
I want to thank you sweetly
That night upon a storm
You heard my frantic crying
You opened up your door
Without hesitation, you gave me a home,
I’ll sing my loving song to you
We’ll pass the time along.
Brenda Cowburn

The Rescue
When I became a widow,
No more a cherished wife,
My little cat began to play
A large part in my life.
Her funny antics cheer me up
When sadness takes a hold
Her affection is a blessing when
The world seems dark and cold.
She hasn’t any pedigree, she was
Just a rescue cat,
But the sweetness of her nature
More than compensates for that.
The reason why I love her so Is plain for all to see –
It wasn’t I who rescued her,
It is she who rescued me!
Mrs Valerie Rogers

Her Indoors
I climb the curtains – there’s a spider up there and then I scratch the back of the  chair. It’s a lovely feeling – your claws sink  right in but according to HER, it’s a mortal sin.
I dirty the kitchen with my muddy paws
Well, so would she if her loo was  outdoors!
When I bring her presents she says I’m not nice. She doesn’t like butterflies,  earthworms or mice.
And when I brought home a cute little bird,  she made the loudest noise I’ve ever  heard.
There are 6 million homeless cats I’m told
And if I don’t behave I’ll be joining the fold.
But I know all this is only a sham
And she really loves me, just as I am.
I’ve heard her tell friends I’m a very good mate.
And I always find titbits and treats on my plate.
So I’ll turn a deaf ear when she starts to complain
OH! ‘scuse me... I’ve spotted that spider again!
Mrs Iris M Cruttenden

CatPoems-Jul24-02-590

Millie
If I could just hear her voice,
Insistent, nagging,
But, oh, how sweet!
If I could just hear the thud, the scratch, the paw,
Of her neat, little feet.
If I could just see the black ball, peaceful, curled tight,
Asleep on the rug.
If I could just feel the softness, the nudge, the nuzzle, of her loving hug.
If I could just hear the soft sound, contended, rippling,
Of her gentle purr.
If I could just see the shine, sleek, glistening,
Of the sun on her fur.
If I could just see her ears, triangular, tufted,
Alert, listening hard.
If I could just watch her chase, pounce, climb and race
After a leaf in the yard.
If I could just fill this dark chasm,
Engulfing, empty, silent and alone.
How I miss little Millie,
Now that she’s gone.
Jenni Robertson

Quincy
Quincy, why do you sleep in the middle of the bed?
There are acres of space to lay your furry head.
I wake in the night, aching in every place, hanging over the edge, feet dangling in space.
You were not in the middle when I put out the light,
You were purring at my side but sometime in the night
You crept to the centre and stretched your great size.
Your long furry torso edged me to one side.
I clutch the edge like a limpet on a rock, whilst you gaze out sleepily from your comfy spot.
Move over puss and give me room to stretch free.
What a fuss you are making, he seemed to say Let a fellow sleep, it’s the middle of the night, I am staying centre, so put out that light.
Ruth Edwards

My Cat and Me
Cats can make their way anywhere.
Down every corridor and up every stair.
Slick as night they have no fear
Stealthily stalking even when danger is near.
They curl up with you at night
Which is good when you’re in a fright.
They scare away any greedy mice
That might be nibbling through the rice.
It’s a great pleasure to be curled up tight with your cat all through the night.
Rose, 9 years and 3 months

Hugo
Furry fatty
Purry catty.
Paddy pawses
Hide sharp clawses.
Playful, sporty,
Often naughty,
Where e’er I go
There goes Hugo.
Isabel Mayo

Jasper
The holly tree shivers and the shadow becomes a cat.
A querying trilling purr greets the open door.
Birds are abandoned for easier meat.
Shoulders fluffed Jasper feeds.
A paw gently pats a wooden train as it rolls.
Entranced, the boys laugh at his playfulness.
Curled on the couch,
Jasper rests
But on a new arrival one eye opens: ‘I’m not asleep.’
Curled he looks so soft, so fluffy, golden brown striped with greyed chestnut
Cruel claws sheathed so innocent he looks.
He presents a grass snake still alive, munches on spiders
Pounces on unwary frogs who have left the protection of their pool.
Basking in the sun, he rolls over showing his tummy for tickling BUT
Beware his twitching tail!
One day he seems suddenly heavy,
So slow – not like himself.
Too late we see the vet.
We travel home in silent tears.
He is gone but when the wind rustles though the holly tree I think I glimpse his shadow in the leaves.
Anna-Louise Taylor

My Cat
He loves me with such loyalty
Unlike a certain man,
Rewarding me with loving purrs
In every way he can
He treats me with such kindness,
And with gratitude for food,
Unlike a certain gentleman
When in a grumpy mood.
He snuggles up beside me,
On the sofa or the bed,
And doesn’t want to leave me
For his club instead.
He is my true companion,
And maybe it’s a whim,
But looking back,
I rather wish I could have married HIM!
Julia Chapman

We had so many great entires to our competition, the rest of which you can read here



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