by Sheila Deeth
Member since:
February 1, 2007

For Frisky, wherever he went - Friday Writing Essentials

March 27, 2012 04:04 PM UTC (Updated: March 27, 2012 04:09 PM UTC)
views: 0 | 7 people recommend this | comments: 9

 

I named my toys for you

Dreamed mystic farms where cats

Chase mice who never die.

You ran away

But memories survive

Where kittens play.

Comments: 9

Pam Brittain Mar 27, 2012, 4:12pm UTC
Awe, that's lovely and sad.
Kushal Poddar Mar 27, 2012, 9:14pm UTC
Ah!
The voice is never reached this pitch.High and clear. Magical reality
JOHN BECK Mar 27, 2012, 9:22pm UTC
Yes, cats sometimes do that.
William M. Mar 27, 2012, 9:35pm UTC
I like it but sad.
Patricia J. Mar 28, 2012, 9:18am UTC
A bittersweet poem of memories. That's how I got my last cat, she wandered in to the workplace and was sitting on a coworkers truck tire trying to stay warm. I took her home and put notes up all over town but no one called so I kept her.
Angela A. Mar 28, 2012, 8:20pm UTC
Very lovely and sad at the same time!
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William Dotani Mar 29, 2012, 3:28am UTC
Melancholy, yet imagery sweet.
Andrea Pearson Apr 6, 2012, 1:27pm UTC
We had a couple of cats run away. That was hard for me to understand as a child. I love your poems. :-) They're so full of emotion and are very visual. Thanks for posting.
William Dotani Apr 8, 2012, 3:39am UTC
I reread. This is very short & sweet not quite to the level of melancholy neat verse.

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