sylvia spencer

Rookie - 0 Points (24 12 43 / woolwich london)

Plight Of A Stray - Poem by sylvia spencer

I was once on my own feeling sad and forlorn.
My eyes were sticky and I wished I had never
been born. I remembered the times when I curled
up on the mat, thinking how good it was to be a
cat.Then all that changed and I wandered away; I was on
the streets just another stray.I found vagrant living very
tough. I no longer looked clean and my fur was rough.
I remembered the street and the territorial fight
on that bitterly cold winters night. I was beaten, scrached,
and torn at the ears; not knowing where I was in a wilderness
of fears. Shakened and half starved I manage to cope; with the
thought of my home at least there was hope.
Sleeping in barns and builders skips, scrapping for food
out of rubbish tips.
For weeks I wandered that lonely road; with hope that one day
I would find my abode. Then one bright warm summers night,
that homing instinct began to bite.I rememberd the garden when
as a kitten I played; and there was the big willow where I would lay
in the shade. Everything was here just as it used to be, I could feel
my heart pounding and I was purring with glee.
After weeks of torment I felt no longer alone, then I could hear
someone shouting Ginger's come home
I wandered those streets and I felt the pain; It's a plight I never
want to do again. It was my experience and oh' how it hurt, I know
I have been there and worn the T Shirt.


The ending of this poem may confuse readers, so please let
me explain. It means Ginger is telling the reader of his
experence. (like I came, I saw I conquered) UK readers will
understand because the last line is used so many times
in our language. Sylvie


Comments about Plight Of A Stray by sylvia spencer

  • (4/23/2006 10:20:00 AM)


    I can relate to this old Tom so well, we share much in common, and you have a wonderful
    way of expressing this subject, love to you Sylvia for all your well connected words, Love Duncan
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  • (4/18/2006 3:42:00 PM)


    What a touching and beautiful poem.Home is a wonderful word in any language. You have brought Ginger alive for your readers with skill, empathy and compassion.You are right. I really love this one, Sylvia.

    Your sister in spirit,

    Sandra
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 19, 2006


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