James Donovan Poems

A cat is a special gift from God
just a simple ball of fur
who will let you know he's happy
when he thanks you with his purr
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I've often wondered to myself
what causes cats to stray;
are they fleeing from a cruel life
and trying to run away?
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We'll begin with box; the plural is boxes;
But the plural of ox is oxen, not oxes,
One fowl is a goose, and two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose is never called meese.
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Thank you, God, for harvest-time,
For milk, for meat, for fish,
Thank you, God, for all the food,
I find upon my dish.
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A loved one dies, a wake is held, and friends all euologize
They try to tell you death can be a blessing in disguise
They say it's probably for the best, that this is their belief
They offer you their sympathy, to try and ease your grief
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Today I looked up in the sky
and prayed to God to ask Him why
my precious cat had passed away.
Was it just to teach me how to pray?
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A poem is a way to say
just what's on your mind today
a way to put your thoughts in verse
that doesn't cut into your purse.
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Have you ever looked up to the sky and seen an eagle soar,
or watched a rain filled cloud pass by, or heard the thunder roar?

Have you ever smelled the perfumed air on a balmy summer's night,
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They say the dog is man's best friend but is this true, pray tell?
Is there no other creature that could play that role as well?

'What about our cat? ' we ask, 'We love that little pest'
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Birds are creatures God set free
to roam the sky from tree to tree,
except the small one that I see
just outside my window.
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