By Julia Kemp
Are cats beings of the night?
Mysterious, elegant, dark?
Maybe, but not mine
My Cat’s a sunshine beam
Glittering light shines in her twinkling eyes
Her cheeks are pink as sunrise
And her lips pinker still
Her voice is sweet and kind
Loud and booming and bright
She’ll make your head turn
I’m sure
When she cries the city lights go out
The skies grow dark and cold
But her smile smells of morning buns and honey comb
They’re the twist in your stomach when your hugged
She’s pumpkin bread
She’s raindrops on forest leaves
She’s coming home after a long trip
She’s my Cat, my sister, my love