Rain Stops Play Poem by Andy Brookes

The rain which has held off all morning begins falling, like tears of mourners, it is ceaseless.

you sit on the window sill yellow eyed and enigmatic, catching the rivulets run their crooked courses.

not a day for mousing but you, ever alert,pester to be let out.
wish granted you scoot back in, a look of murder in your eyes,
shocked as if it the first time you've encountered water.

I don't know why I live with you. traitorous in your affection, a sinuous body of trouble.
I ignore you and read the paper.
you step into my lap crushing the new print in your wake, your morning ruined, you set out to ruin mine.

purring your faithless love, false beast, I stroke your golden fur unresistant and automatic
as you settle in my lap till dinner time and I attempt to awkwardly to read my paper.
another Friday morning farce and as usual you get your own way.