The Little Cat
Forgive me if I weep -- she was so sweet,
That little cat who scampered through the house,
Or curled asleep upon the window ledge,
Though still alert to stir of leaf or mouse.
But now she's gone, whose soft paw often touched
My cheek at the first glint of day;
Or with arched back, skipped through the room,
Enticing me to enter in her play.
Oh God of little cats ... my earnest plea
Is that while things are strange to her
You may scratch her ears sometimes, let her chase
Celestial mice along the Milky way.
Just for a little while until she finds
some chosen spot upon the Outer Gate
When she is weary of her running, where she may
curl in the sunshine, there to sleep...and wait.