Poets’ Corner 27 September 2020

Hello all – sorry for the hiccup, but I have so many poems to choose from, it’s taking me some time to select them!
Here’s the first one I’ve selected – from Christina Lynn’s booklet “Verses Written Some Before But Most During Lockdown”  These booklets are being sold if anyone is interested – in aid of the Wannock Village Hall and the Vickie Vowles Memorial Fund For Safer Childbirth” – cost £5 each or two for £8.  Contact me if you are interested and I’ll put you in touch with Christina.



In this time of isolation

My cat has been my consolation.

From break of day ’till dusk at night

She’s always there to set me right.

Stroking her, it keeps me calm

Her soothing purr it is a balm,

When tickled underneath her chin,

It’s better far than medicine.

“Jazzie” is my pussy’s name,

I do not know from whence she came.

Handed in to “Cats Protection”, skin and bone

Her kittens whereabouts unknown.

Though lean at first she has grown bigger

And now displays a portly figure.

She’s paws and vest and tum of white,

Striped pantaloons a funny sight!

Her body’s glossy tortoishell

Which with the white contrasts so well.

Her eyes are green and beautiful,

She stares at you, she is no fool,

She weighs you up and with that look

Your soul’s laid bare, an open book,

That tells here if you’re friend or foe

She’s canny and will always know.

That is why at our first meeting

She rubbed round me and miaowed a greeting

That told me we’d be friends forever,

I think that shows that she is clever!

Her ears are soft and feel like velvet,

Their position on her head well set.

Whiskers long and white and straight

Size of gap to estimate.

The markings on her face suggest an owl

And like that hunter she goes to prowl.

Her hunting skills are quite prodigious

Voles and mice she finds delicious.

What’s left behind does not look pleasant,

I’m glad she hasn’t caught a pheasant.

Though there’s always some that get away

Or she leaves then for another day.

Sometimes they die and leave a whiff

The only time we have a tiff!

She has a routine quite precise

No bad thing for both of us.

Her breakfast’s served at seven-thirty

Which means I have to get up early.

She needs to have a special diet

To keep her waterworks just right.

In personal hygiene she’s fastidious

There never was a cleaner puss.

She reaches places others can’t

With legs right-angled at a slant.

She is a living ornament,

This cat to me from heaven sent.

To those alone I recommend

You get a cat to be your friend.

They do not need to have a walk

And with you they like to talk.

You will not argue or have rows,

They’ll give you pleasure hours and hours.


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