The Sunday Paws: #8
Pattiann Rogers's "Without Violence"
Sharing a photo or two of Wilbur and Ozni, affectionately referred to as “the boys” by many, happened monthly. Then, life got busy.
Not long after, life got hot—not very warm, but hot—and demanded that everything slow down for a while. It has, and for that reason, The Sunday Paws has returned with another photo and poem for you.
This installment’s poem comes from Pattiann Rogers. It is entitled “Without Violence.” Enjoy.
That cat who comes during sleep, quiet On his cushioned claws, without violence, Who enters the house with a low warm rattle In his throat; that cat who has been said To crawl into a baby's crib without brushing The bars, to knit his paws on the pale Flannel of the infant's nightdress, to settle In sleep chin to chin with the dear one And softly steal the child's breath Without malice, as easily as pulling A silk scarf completely through a gold ring; The same cat who has been known to nudge Through castle doors, to part tent flaps, To creep to the breasts of brave men, Ease between their blankets, to stretch Full length on the satin bodices of lovely Women, to nuzzle their cheeks with his great Feline mane; it was that cat who leaped last night Through the west window of father's bedroom. Who chose to knead his night's rest on my father's Shoulder, who slept well, breathing deeply; Leaving just before dawn to saunter toward The north, his magnificent tail and rump Swaying with a listless and gorgeous grace.
Previous installments of The Sunday Paws include:
Adorable photo and beautiful poem, Taishin Michael (and Wilbur and Ozni)!