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Friday 27 March 2020

Threnody

I sing of Pippin, family friend,
Window yowler,
Loving lap-warmer,
Soothing snuggler.

Lean lady of the lane, she did not rest
Sleek sable-suited sentinel of the high hedges.
Purring prey pouncer,
Mistress of mangled mice,
Sharp-toothed shrew shredder,
Wren-wrangler,
Fierce foe of pheasants (or would be, had they been smaller).

Eighteen Easters, she held sway,
Mitsy’s mentor with firm paw.
Provisioner of the Pear Tree,
She did not hold back:
Gift-giver (mostly spleens).

Weary now, wait no longer.
Marooned in maidenhood (my doing),
Diana's new moon bow bends, beckoning.
Stellar dust once more, stream star-ward.
Hunt now the high ways with Orion.

2 comments:

  1. That's such a vivid impression of Pippin. Eat your heart out, Wordsworth...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Eat your heart out, Wordsworth...

    ReplyDelete

comments welcome