melissaahowells
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He's my little orange scout
he shows me around the neighborhood as he makes he rounds Little Peanut Butter Trout... the name I've christened him as if it was his given name as if it was his hidden name a secret that we share... He relished peanut butter and sardines and licks my fingers when I share a tuna sandwich We like being cats at least that is what I think He thinks I am when I meow or chortle in His direction see how He comes running His languid orange belly rocking back and forth like a hammock Every cat has one of those but His hangs a little nearer to the ground because He's had a tough life all-around and I aim to get Him back on His paws into finer fitting form Living on His own had done Him more than a little harm and I aim to help Him get His heart and rugged body back He is not willing to follow me home nor make an attachment other than to share a meal a conversation and the friendliest of hello's He has made a great impression on my heart and I think He knows He can come home with me if He wanted to maybe this is the arrangement He likes best --to come and go as a Bachelor and not get tied to a permanent nest Peanut Butter So much the Handsomest Than any other Tabby Dude I am smitten with you Little Man Orange Little Mr. P. B. Trout. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 7:36PM 7/23/2020 AND LEGAL AND REGISTERED COPYRIGHT FOR THIS SITE TITLE AND POET MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD AND MELISSA A. HOWELLS COPYRIGHTED AUTHOR/POET. Vote for this poem |
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