Make your own free website on Tripod.com
MANX TALES Winter 2002
Poetry

HOME

About Me
Surfin' The Net
Manx Stories
Smiles
Photo Album
Pet Messages...
Vacation Photo Album
Health
Poetry
Tid Bits
Pet Story
Colon Problems in the Cat

Cat in a Christmas Tree

A week before Christmas, I put up the tree,
That started the fight between Arthur and me.
Now, Arthur's a cat, and you know very well
How a cat likes to play with a ball or a bell.

I trimmed it with lights and tinsel that shone;
I pleaded with Arthur to leave it alone.
With a flip of his tail and a look of disdain
He climbed to the top of the tree again.

I said to myself, "Why, the nerve of that cat!
When he comes down again, I'll give him a spat!"
But he paid not the slightest attention to me,
As he frisked frolicked in my Christmas tree.

In a very few days, I admitted defeat;
Arthur came down only to eat.
And I thought how surprised old Santa will be
To encounter a cat in my Christmas tree!

-Author Unknown

Feline of Mine

Soft silky fur, velvet toes
Follow me wherever I go
Luminous eyes, large and green
The guardian of my nightime dreams

Padded paws, tiny pink nose
Scratchy wet kisses, oh no one knows
The joy she brings my life each day
What comfort I feel that she came to stay

Curled next to my pillow
Each night while I sleep
Her warmth fills my bed
Purrs rumbling so deep

She turns 'round in a circle
Each night before bed
Flips her tail in my face
And lays down near my head

Gives a lick to my hand
And a kiss to my nose
Snuggles beside me and
Like a light, out she goes

Her whiskers tickle my face
When I wake
Get up and feed me,
For goodness sakes!

She knows what she wants...
So easy to please
Fancy Feast, catnip and
A warm pair of knees

A chair by the screen door
To watch the birds feed...
Pillows on the porch swing
To sleep while I read

No fancy toys for this
Feline of mine--
Her mousie, a necktie
Suit her just fine

A better companion
Won't be found if you try!
When I need a friend
She's always close by

Enter content here

THE NAMING OF CATS

by T.S. Eliot, from Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey --
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter --
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum --
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover --
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

vv