A little poem I wrote last night for a very, very special lady.
.
On Her 17th Birthday
Her youth was spent aloof and free,
the queen of her own destiny.
Now frail and thin, she barely hears –
hasn’t caught a mouse in years.
– © 2015, Matt Forrest Esenwine, all rights reserved
Jama Rattigan is hosting Poetry Friday today, and you know what that means: snacks! Well, of course, plenty of poetry links, too – but you can always count on snacks when Jama is blogging, and today she has Blueberry Crumb Bars…so head on over before they’re all gone!
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Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme 
Matt, your poem is meant for someone special. Will you tell us who? How wonderful to be the queen of your destiny. A story to be unfolded in other poems perhaps??? Thank you for your Spring Symphony offering. As I told you, it was a perfect pairing. There is a thank you in my post today since you were among the first to get in your Spring Symphony offering.
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Thank you, carol! I’ll be posting a photo sometime over the weekend, probably on FB – so as not to ruin the surprise ending for folks reading the poem here. I look forward to seeing YOUR post!
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Meow! Love it, Matt.
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Thanks, Julie!
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You’re a fellow cat-lover! A lovely tribute to a special companion. Stay cool today!
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Yes, I’ve always been a cat person. Thanks, Diane!
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We run a cat poetry section if you ever fancy writing a cat themed one as a guest post. 😉
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I’d love to, Marc-André! Let me look through my archives and see if I have anything appropriate – if not, I’ll write something new! Thanks so much.
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Thank you! Looking forward to them. 🙂 my email is marc@katzenworld.co.uk
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Words to honor a reigning queen! We bid goodbye to our dear friend, 18 years old this spring who let us live with her for 17 years. She’s still here, wandering soundlessly, around our home, reminding us of her tender care.
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So sorry to hear, Ramona…it’s hard to imagine a home without a cat’s presence like that!
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A perfect trick of a poem, Matt. Cats, especially old ones, are so special, as you seem you know.
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Poor kitty, living on memories of the chase. How lucky she is to have you as an admirer.
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What a sweet poem for your sweet kitty! My dog lived to be 17 and was blind the last few years and was the sweetest thing. Your poem was very touching. Give your cat a soft hug for me!
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Me-wow! I think that little lady deserves a fancy feast this weekend!
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There is nothing like a cat! When I read the title I was thinking of a teen about to become 17 and maybe graduating, etc. Then the surprise – a cat – aged. A different story all together…in a way.
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Thank you all! Cleo was born in June 1998, and when I counted the years last night I discovered how old she was. I knew she was getting up there – but didn’t realize how far up! That’s when I wrote the poem. Alas, I wonder if she’ll make it to 18…she really is so frail & thin. She still seems to be able to see & hear, though, and still jumps onto the counter when we’re not looking – so she’s got some spunk left!
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What a perfect description: “queen of her own destiny.” It’s hard to see them grow frail, isn’t it?
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It is. She was so lively and spry and – well, now…she just wanders around, keeping an eye on things.
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Remembering our sweet Jennyanydots who got skinnier and skinner and more and more frail and forgetful and loud into her 20th year before we had to say goodbye.
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20 years?? Wow, that’s incredible! She must’ve been some kitty.
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You got me, Matt – on many levels! I remember this time last year, in the Summer Poem Swap, sending a poem inspired by my old office kitty to Diane M. One of her kitties was very old then, too, and she’s since had to tell her goodbye. My blind, snaggle-toothed “May” is still with us, but thin and unsteady, though sweet as ever – probably close to the age of yours. (Hey, maybe the cats in Diane’s PF poem this week will make an exception for you when the time comes at the Pearly Gates… ?)
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Thank you, Robyn. Yes, I do hope the cats will remember the cat-person of the family. I suppose I’ll have to ask Diane if she’ll put a good word in for me with her free-roaming heavenly creatures!
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