My cat is silly!
She grabs the tissue from my pocket and runs.
She likes to eat bananas and zucchini.
She gathers the fuzz balls from under the
refrigerator and behind the stove into a ball.
She leaps and dances on her tip toes.
She has a cardboard house that she leaps out
of to ambush my ankles.
She has brown eyes, a cute pink nose and
pink mouth.
She has a black spot on the bottoms of each of
her feet.
Today Gwendolyn got into a bottle of food
coloring.
She dyed her front feet blue and left blue spots
all over the living room carpet.
I tried to wash the dye off her feet but she
yowled and bit me.
Now the bottoms of her white feet and pink
pads are a light blue to go along with her black
spots.
She is a terror always looking for calamity.
I love her still even when she is a brat.
She curls up next to my neck when I am in bed
and touches my face with her nose.
She sucks and kneads on my clothes.
She cries outside the door when I am in the
bathroom.
She must sit on my lap when I am at the
computer.
I laugh when she bites her tail and spins around
in a circle.
She talks back when I ask her if she wants
canned food.
She is still a kitten but she is growing too fast.
She will always be my baby.
I will always be her Mommy.
My special girl.
My sweet puff.
My kitten pie.
Mischievous, silly, feisty, happy Gwendolyn.
Poetry by Amy Buchanan
Read 1251 times
Written on 2007-10-09 at 21:32
Tags Cats
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Gwendolyn Dyed Her Feet
She grabs the tissue from my pocket and runs.
She likes to eat bananas and zucchini.
She gathers the fuzz balls from under the
refrigerator and behind the stove into a ball.
She leaps and dances on her tip toes.
She has a cardboard house that she leaps out
of to ambush my ankles.
She has brown eyes, a cute pink nose and
pink mouth.
She has a black spot on the bottoms of each of
her feet.
Today Gwendolyn got into a bottle of food
coloring.
She dyed her front feet blue and left blue spots
all over the living room carpet.
I tried to wash the dye off her feet but she
yowled and bit me.
Now the bottoms of her white feet and pink
pads are a light blue to go along with her black
spots.
She is a terror always looking for calamity.
I love her still even when she is a brat.
She curls up next to my neck when I am in bed
and touches my face with her nose.
She sucks and kneads on my clothes.
She cries outside the door when I am in the
bathroom.
She must sit on my lap when I am at the
computer.
I laugh when she bites her tail and spins around
in a circle.
She talks back when I ask her if she wants
canned food.
She is still a kitten but she is growing too fast.
She will always be my baby.
I will always be her Mommy.
My special girl.
My sweet puff.
My kitten pie.
Mischievous, silly, feisty, happy Gwendolyn.
Poetry by Amy Buchanan
Read 1251 times
Written on 2007-10-09 at 21:32
Tags Cats
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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liz munro |
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