a magazine of cat tales | ISSN: 2769-058X
Mama keeps me close on Halloween
The night when ghouls grow cold and mean
And things are not how they should seem
I’m Mama’s boy on Halloween
She has pumpkins one, two, and three,
But the cold outdoors is not for me
I stay warm on Mama’s knees
Safe inside on Halloween
I’m her pumpkin on Halloween
As the witches dance and werewolves sing
She keeps me close so I can dream
Of caramel cake and pretty things
I’m a pumpkin cat on Halloween
Two little pumpkins
In an autumn wind
One tall and quiet
One with a grin
A soft little voice
When one of them moves
Shake of a tail
A welcome home mew
Welcome bright colors
And cold frosty nights
An autumn of fun
With best friends at your side
The ancients sang
of fairy tales,
dancing folk and wild spells
and mythic dreams
not meant to tell
on moonlit nights
in circle rounds
the fairy king
I think I’ve found–
little feet upon the ground
paw pads four, fire crown
“tiger, tiger burning bright”
the fairy king is out tonight
with fireflies and fairy flight
he dances softly in disguise:
he disappears to mortal eyes
dancing beneath the summer sky
but a cat among the clover lies
a secret king with head held high
a fairy king who never dies
I see him dancing in the night
Momma knows her Latin well:
poems, history, evil spells
and places where emperors used to dwell
fancy homes of which she likes to tell
One of mine, she says, I’ll be calling home
a royal palace, a regal dome
with marble walls and gardens to roam
an imperial palace of my very own
There will be birds and sunlight and silken beds
and soft warm spots to set my head
servants will heed my beck and call
as emperor, I’ll rule them all
But there’s a journey first, a ride afar
I hate the carrier, loathe the car
I’ll scream until Momma’s seeing stars–
until we’re there: au revoir, revoir!
I love my rainbow blankie–
it wasn’t mine, originally,
but that didn’t matter:
Momma finished it for me,
and now I am the owner
of her rainbow blankie.
It’s a blankie like no other–
rainbow wool and fleece
and bits of handmade memories:
a scarf, a sock, a sweater sleeve,
remnants of nights
spent by Momma’s knee
as she worked magic on
a blankie just for me
(unknowingly).
It smells like her, and now like me,
where I revel in rainbow dreams
and whiskered tuna reveries
where I chase mice and birds
across imaginary fields and streams.
I love my rainbow fleece,
my rainbow dreams,
the blankie Momma made just for me.
All for me, just for me.
Focus on the good things, Mommy,
focus on me, when you’re tired and
never want to leave this bed again,
crying about things I don’t understand,
heavy human words that fly over my head
Focus on the good things, Mommy,
focus on me, the little warm
bundle in your lap, on your heart
purring remedies into your bones
listening with poised ears to your breaths
coming longer, quieter, calmer,
as we settle down into snuggles
Focus on the good things, Mommy,
focus on me, my little face gazing up at you,
radiant, whisker-framed,
my paws and pink toe beans,
my tail tucked in so perfectly
Focus on the good things, Mommy,
focus on me–
the little soul that follows
you every night, every step
to snuggle close and purr
until you smile again
Focus on the good things, Mommy,
focus on me, and sleep well,
knowing that I am here
and I love you
on darker nights
seeped in cold
I sleep well knowing
I am not alone
I hear the door,
the quiet creak,
the lighting weight
of little feet
padded paws,
a little nose
cold and soft,
tiny toes
kneading me
and nuzzling fleece
purring calm,
purring peace-
filled remedies to every ill
quiet breaths
long and still
a warmth that falls
through open arms
to settle down
on blankets and yarn
a tiny tum, a little head
smiling, snuggling
in my bed
and we drift along
in cozy night
snuggled close,
holding tight
paws on chest
chin on cheek
my angel is perfect
soft and sweet
my little boy,
my little one
someone to hug
someone to love
through the nights
cold and deep
hugging close
in quiet sleep
there’s an angel
in my bed
comfort for
the road ahead
Sir Socks Le Chat 