Pawprints and Purrs, Inc.
A Non-Profit 501(c)(3) Organization
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Copyright © 1997 - 2008
Cat Poems
"A poet's cat sedate and grave
As poet well could wish to have,
Was much addicted to inquire
For nooks, to which she might retire,
And where, secure as mouse in chink,
She might repose, or sit and think.
I know not where she caught the trick -
Nature perhaps had cast her
In such a mould philosophique
Or else she learn'd it of her master."
~ William Cowper ~
Note: The most recent poems added to this collection are located here.
Cat Kisses
Sandpaper kisses
on a cheek or a chin-
that is the way
for a day to begin!
Sandpaper kisses-
a cuddle and a purr.
I have an alarm clock
that's covered in fur!
~ Bobbi Katz ~
Thomas o' Malley
Thomas o' Malley is a ginger tabby
with sleek body that's not flabby
He was somehow, by persons unknown,
discarded, but with us found a home.
He has lazy green eyes and pink nose
always sitting in comfortable pose.
Thomas is not just an ordinary good cat,
at times he's worse than a stinking rat.
He talks to his human in various sounds
as they, in the garden, do their rounds.
He has his comments and criticisms
of the layout, watering and schisms.
Thomas is a connoiseur and taster of food
as he'll not eat if not in the right mood.
He looks with disdain on the other cats
as they scramble for cookie rats.
He'll have fish biscuits, if you please,
not on the floor in the dirt and fleas.
~ Dr. J A Vorster ~
A Cat's Prayer
Now I lay me down to sleep,
The king-size bed is soft and deep...
I sleep right in the center groove
My human can hardly move!
I've trapped her legs, she's tucked in tight
And here is where I pass the night
No one disturbs me or dares intrude
Till morning comes and "I want food!"
I sneak up slowly to begin
My nibbles on my human's chin.
She wakes up quickly, I have sharp teeth -
And my claws I will unsheath
For the morning's here and it's time to play
I always seem to get my way.
So thank you Lord for giving me
This human person that I see.
The one who hugs me and holds me tight
And sacrifices her bed at night.
~ Author Unknown ~
Why Own a Cat?
There's a danger you know.
You can't own just one, for the craving will grow.
There's no doubt they're addictive, wherein lies the danger
While living with lots, you'll grow poorer and stranger
One cat is not trouble, and two are so funny,
The third one is easy, the fourth one's a honey
The fifth is delightful, the sixth ones's a breeze.
You find you can live with a houseful, with ease.
So how 'bout another? Would you really dare?
They're really quite easy, but Oh Lord, the hair!
With cats on the sofa and cats on the bed,
And crates in the kitchen, its no bother, you said.
They're really no trouble, their manners are great.
What's just one more cat and one more little crate?
The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty.
The floor is all footprints, the furniture's dusty.
The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care?
Who minds a few noseprints and a little more hair?
So let's keep a kitten, you can always find room.
And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom.
There's hardly a limit to the cats you can add
The thought of a cutback, sure makes you feel sad.
Each one is special, so useful, so funny,
The food bill grows larger, you owe the vet money.
Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay,
Except other cat folks, who live the same way.
Your lawn has now died and your shrubs are dead, too.
Your weekends are busy, you're off with your crew.
There's cat food and vitamins, grooming and shots
And litter and toys and more, all which cost lots.
Is it worth it you wonder? Are you caught in a trap?
Then that favorite comes up and climbs in your lap.
His look says you're special and you know that you will
Keep all of the kittens in spite of the bill.
Late evening is awful, you scream and you shout
At the cats on the sofa, who refuse to get up.
The whole thing seems worth it, the cats are your life.
They're charming and funny and offset the strife.
Your lifestyle has changed, things just won't be the same.
Yes, those cats are addictive and so's the cat game!
~ Author Unknown ~
My Cat Friends
My home is where my feet touch
My bed is what's under me when I'm sleepy
My food is anything that tastes good.
My friends are whom I choose.
The night is my safety, the day is my warmth.
I'm proud but not vain. Simple things delight me.
I love to be loved, but love when I choose.
I adapt very quickly, but prefer my routine.
I am curious to a fault.
I am beautiful, and I'm clean, and I know it.
My soft voice can comfort, my anger is clear.
I practice my agility so none can compare.
I am what I am, and I would be no other,
I am cat! And that's that!
~ Greg Moore ~
They will not go quietly,
the cats who've shared our lives.
In subtle ways they let us know
their spirit still survive.
Old habits still make us think
we hear a meow at the door.
Or step back when we drop
a tasty morsel on the floor.
Our feet still go around the place
the food dish used to be,
And, sometimes, coming home at night,
we miss them terribly.
And although time may bring new friends
and a new food dish to fill,
That one place in our hearts
belongs to them....
and always will.
~ Linda Barnes ~
To A Cat
Stately, kindly, lordly friend
Condescend
Here to sit by me, and turn
Glorious eyes that smile and burn,
Golden eyes, love's lustrous meed,
On the golden page I read.
All your wondrous wealth of hair
Dark and fair,
Silken-shaggy, soft and bright
As the clouds and beams of night,
Pays my reverent hand's caress
Back with friendlier gentleness.
Dogs may fawn on all and some
As they come;
You, a friend of loftier mind,
Answer friends alone in kind.
Just your foot upon my hand
Softly bids it understand.
~ A. C. Swinburne ~
Cats...
have eyes that yawn,
green
as a halt sign.
In morse-tail
language
they speak your mind,
loving you
to fur-deep
distraction.
~ Jim Howell ~
My Cat
My cat walks slowly through the house,
measuring each step,
examining the nooks and crannys,
and I can almost visualize,
the crown of diamonds on her head,
the purple velvet cape
trimmed with ermine
trailing behind her.
When I call her name,
she lifts her tail
in acknowledgment,
telling me she heard me
but continuing her noble walk.
When she naps on my chest
and gives me a lick,
I feel privileged indeed
to share my life
with a cat.
~ Natasha Josefowitz, Ph.D. ~
Catalogue
Cats sleep fat and walk thin.
Cats, when they sleep, slump;
When they wake, pull in -
And where the plump's been
There's skin.
Cats walk thin.
Cats wait in a lump,
Jump in a streak.
Cats, when they jump, are sleek
As a grape slipping its skin-
They have technique.
Oh, cats don't creak.
They sneak.
Cats sleep fat.
They spread comfort beneath them
Like a good mat,
As if they picked the place
And then sat.
You walk around one
As if he were City Hall
After that.
If male,
A cat is apt to sing upon a major scale:
This concert is for everybody, this
Is wholesale.
For a baton, he wields a tail.
(He is also found,
When happy, to resound
With an enclosed and private sound.)
A cat condenses.
He pulls in his tail to go under bridges,
And himself to go under fences.
Cats fit
In any box or kit;
And if a large pumpkin grew under one,
He could arch over it.
When everyone else is just ready to go out,
The cat is just ready to come in,
He's not where he's been.
Cats sleep fat and walk thin.
~ Rosalie Moore ~
A Tribute to Scarlett, the Brooklyn calico who rescued her five four week old kittens from a fiercely burning building on March 30, 1996. Nearly a month later, one male kitten died due to a virus and major complications from the fire. For three months, Scarlett and her other four kittens healed before all were adopted to loving homes.
From A Heroine
Why is everyone so surprised
That I saved my furry five;
That in spite of pain and danger
I brought them out alive?
True my eyes were barely open
But I heard their frantic wails;
Through smoke and flames I saw
Scorched ears and burning tails.
Every trip was a burdened choice
But I could make no other.
The rescuers have called me cat -
But I am also "mother."
~ Rosemary Asmussen ~
A Kitten
He's nothing much but fur
And two round eyes of blue,
He has a giant purr
And a midget mew.
He darts and pats the air,
He starts and cocks his ear,
When there is nothing there
For him to see and hear.
He runs around in rings
But why we cannot tell;
With sideways leaps he springs
At things invisible-
Then half-way through a leap
His startled eyeballs close,
And he drops off to sleep
With one paw on his nose.
~ Eleanor Farjeon ~
Catterel
My pussycat sings his song to me.
He always sings at half past three.
He sings of tins of tuna fish,
And chicken pieces in a dish,
And when my pussycat's sung to me,
I go to get my pussycat's tea.
Always be kind to your pussycat,
Whatever he may do.
Your pussycat loves you and always will,
Your pussycat's faithful and true.
~ David Harper ~
The Tom Cat
At midnight in the alley
A Tom-cat comes to wail,
And he chants the hate of a million years
As he swings his snaky tail.
Malevolent, bony, brindled,
Tiger and devil and bard,
His eyes are coals from the middle of Hell
And his heart is black and hard.
He twists and crouches and capers
And bares his curved sharp claws,
And he sings to the stars of the jungle nights,
Ere cities were, or laws.
Beasts from a world primeval,
He and his leaping clan,
When the blotched red moon leers over the roofs,
Give voice to their scorn of man.
He will lie on a rug tomorrow
And lick his silky fur,
And veil the brute in his yellow eyes
And play he's tame, and purr.
But at midnight in the alley
He will crouch again and wail,
And beat the time for his demon's song.
With the swing of his demon's tail.
~ Don Marquis ~
Cats are Wonderful Friends
Gentle eyes that see so much,
paws that have the quiet touch,
Purrs to signal "all is well"
and show more love than words could tell.
Graceful movements touched with pride,
a calming presence by our side --
A friendship that takes time to grow --
Small wonder why we love them so.
~ Author Unknown ~
Skimbleshanks: The Railway Cat
There's a whisper down the line at 11:39
When the Night Mail's ready to depart,
Saying 'Skimble where is Skimble has he gone to hunt the thimble?
We must find him or the train can't start.'
All the guards and all the porters and the stationmaster's daughters
They are searching high and low,
Saying 'Skimble where is Skimble for unless he's very nimble
Then the Night Mail just can't go.'
At 11:42 then the signal's nearly due
And the passengers are frantic to a man -
Then Skimble will appear and he'll saunter to the rear:
He's been busy in the luggage van!
He gives one flash of his glass-green eyes
And the signal goes 'All Clear!'
And we're off at last for the northern part
Of the Northern Hemisphere!
You may say that by and large it is Skimble who's in charge
Of the Sleeping Car Express.
From the driver and the guards to the bagmen playing cards
He will supervise them all, more or less.
Down the corridor he paces and examines all the faces
Of the travellers in the First and in the Third;
He establishes control by a regular patrol
And he'd know at once if anything occurred.
He will watch you without winking and he sees what you are thinking
And it's certain that he doesn't approve
Of hilarity and riot, so the folk are very quiet
When Skimble is about and on them ove.
You can play no pranks with Skimbleshanks!
He's a Cat that cannot be ignored;
So nothing goes wrong on the Northern Mail
When Skimbleshanks is aboard.
Oh it's very pleasant when you have found your little den
With your name written up on the door.
And the berth is very neat with a newly folded sheet
And there's not a speck of dust on the floor.
There is every sort of light - you can make it dark or bright;
There's a button that you turn to make a breeze.
There's a funny little basin you're supposed to wash your face in
And a crank to shut the window if you sneeze.
Then the guard looks in politely and will ask you very brightly
'Do you like your morning tea weak or strong?'
But Skimble's just behind him and was ready to remind him,
For Skimble won't let anything go wrong.
And when you creep into your cosy berth
And pull up the counterpane,
You are bound to admit that it's very nice
To know that you won't be bothered by mice -
You can leave all that to the Railway Cat,
The Cat of the Railway Train!
In the middle of the night he is always fresh and bright;
Every now and then he has a cup of tea
With perhaps a drop of Scotch while he's keeping on the watch,
Only stopping here and there to catch a flea.
You were fast asleep at Crewe and so you never knew
That he was walking up and down the station;
You were sleeping all the while he was busy at Carlisle,
Where he greets the stationmaster with elation.
But you saw him at Dumfries, where he summons the police
If there's anything they ought to know about:
When you get to Gallowgate there you do not have to wait -
For Skimbleshanks will help you to get out!
He gives you a wave of his long brown tail
Which says: 'I'll see you again!
You'll meet without fail on the Midnight Mail
The Cat of the Railway Train.'
~ T.S. Eliot ~
The cat went here and there
And the moon spun round like a top,
And the nearest kin of the moon,
The creeping cat, looked up.
Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,
For, wander and wail as he would,
The pure cold light in the sky
Troubled his animal blood.
Minnaloushe runs in the grass
Lifting his delicate feet.
Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?
~ William Butler Yeats ~
The Kitten and the Falling Leaves
See the Kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall,
Withered leaves - one-two-and three -
From the lofty elder-tree!
Though the calm and frosty air
Of this morning bright and fair,
Eddying round and round they sink
Softly, slowly: one might think,
From the motions that are made,
Every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or Faery hither tending,
To this lower world descending,
Each invisible and mute
In his wavering parachute.
But the Kitten, how she starts,
Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!
First at one, and then its fellow
Just as light and just as yellow.
There are many now - now one -
Now they stop and there are none:
What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of fire!
With a tiger-leap half-way
Now she meets the coming prey,
Lets it go as fast, and then
Has it in her power again:
Now she works with three or four,
Like an Indian conjurer;
Quick as he in feats of art,
Far beyond in joy of heart.
Where her antics played in the eye
Of a thousand standers-by,
Clapping hands with shout and stare,
What would little Tabby care
For the plaudits of the crowd?
~ William Wordsworth ~
A Cat's Life
There's a black cat sleeping by the fire,
Sleeping peacefully on a velvet rug,
The moon shines with a silvery glow,
It brings little light through the small window,
But the cat is happy at peace and content,
Slowly rises the sun, gradually she climbs the sky,
Bringing light to the world,
The cat wakes hearing the bird's sweet song,
He watches a mouse scamper across the floor,
He crouches, his tail swishes from side to side,
The mouse looks up and gives a small squeak,
But the cat is so strong and the mouse is too weak,
The poor mouse is now no more,
Except for her tail that lays on the floor,
This routine is kept daily,
But the cat's growing old,
He can't keep it up much more,
The winter is cold and the wind brings a chill,
But the cat lays by the fire as always he will,
The fire is now out but the cat is still there,
The moon may not shine,
And the sun may not rise,
But the cat remains there,
By the fire.
~ Holly Workman - Westerham, Kent, England - age 11 ~
The One-Fang Gang
Like soldiers at the Cenotaph
The one-fang gang stands tall
And woe betide you if you laugh
For they have seen it all.
Old Buster, Bruiser, Billy-Boy,
And Thomas, Tinker, Ted,
Have fought with tigers in their time
And scared them half to death.
Now some have just the upper right
And some the bottom left;
While others have a gummy grin
And dribble down their chests.
Though years have gone, and also teeth,
Those boys dream on undaunted;
But in those dreams of past campaigns
Full sets of teeth are flaunted.
~ Heather Smith ~
Calling in the Cat
Now from the dark, a deeper dark,
The cat slides,
Furtive and aware,
His eyes still shine with meteor spark
The cold dew weights his hair.
Suspicious,
Hesitant, he comes
Stepping morosely from the night,
Held but repelled,
By lamp and firelight.
Now call your blandest,
Offer up
The sacrifice of meat,
And snare the wandering soul with greeds,
Give him to drink and eat,
And he shall walk fastidiously
Into the trap of old
On feet that still smell delicately
Of withered ferns and mould.
~ Elizabeth Coatsworth ~
The trouble with a kitten is THAT
Eventually it becomes a CAT.
~ Ogden Nash ~
Let take a cat, and foster him well with milk
And tender flesh and make his couch of silk,
And let him see a mouse go by the wall,
Anon he waveth milk and flesh and all,
And every dainty that is in that house,
Such appetite he hath to eat a mouse.
~ Chaucer ~
Pussy will rub my knees with her head
Pretending she loves me hard;
But the very minute I go to bed
Pussy runs out in the yard...
~ Rudyard Kipling ~
In Honour of Taffy Topaz
Taffy, the topaz-coloured cat,
Thinks now of this and now of that,
But chiefly on his meals.
Asparagus, and cream, and fish,
Are objects of his Freudian wish;
What you don't give, he steals.
His amiable amber eyes
Are very friendly, very wise;
Like Buddha, grave and fat,
He sits, regardless of applause,
And thinking, as he kneads his paws,
What fun to be a cat!
~ Christopher Morley ~
On A Cat Aging
He blinks upon the hearth-rug
And yawns in deep content,
Accepting all the comforts
That Providence has sent.
Louder he purrs and louder,
In one glad hymn of praise
For all the night's adventures,
For quiet, restful days.
Life will go on forever,
With all that cat can wish;
Warmth, and the glad procession
Of fish and milk and fish.
Only the thought distrubs him -
He's noticed once or twice,
That times are somehow breeding
A nimbler race of mice.
~ Sir Alexander Gray ~
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