A sleek, black cat sat there in my path;
He soon wound himself round my calves.
I had never encountered the cat before,
But he was not shy - that was for sure!
Eager to give and receive some affection,
He soon happily headed in my direction.
To be my friend, he seemed really keen –
This lean, mean, little killing machine.
Between us both, there was an instant bond;
Of my new found friend, I felt really fond.
His coat was smooth, with a lovely shine.
His movements were fluid, just like wine.
His liquid gold eyes looked up into mine:
Of our impending friendship, this was a sign.
From deep inside, there came a loud purr,
And he totally ignored any passing bird.
He rolled on the ground upon his back:
Of false affection, there was no lack;
For anyone else, he’d have done the same –
Whether or not they knew of his name.
If he could have had his way,
He’d have kept me there all of the day.
But I had an appointment and had to go -
That I see him again, I really hope so.
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Comments about this poem (Black Cat by Angela Wybrow )
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