She curls upon my lap
Pawing my sweatshirt
Poking little holes
With needle sharp claws
Squints at me with approval
That I sit still to be her cushion
For the time privileged
Blessed from her presence
She calms my loneliness
Excites my playfulness
Gives me a chance to care
Fills the house with spice
Gives that sweet greet
After I arrive
Rubs me to remind me
There is good life in mine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Happy Kisa, but his eyes, hummmmm! ! ! ! Beautiful! ! !