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Pretty Poppy 18/10/99

Nobody knew Poppy like Irene and me.
All a stranger would ever see
Was a proud very pretty little cat,
She didn't allow more than that,
Who would sneak into the house
Then out again quiet as a mouse.
For nervous Poppy didn't like to see
Anybody else but Irene and me.

At least twice a day in she'd rush
And patiently wait Ďtil we found her brush
Then lash her tail and loudly purr
As we'd comb her beautiful fur.
Only when she'd had that treat
Would little Poppy deign to eat.

Nobody knew Poppy like Irene and me.
Nobody else was allowed to see
The quiet little Poppy that slipped upstairs
To the bed that was ours and hers,
And sometimes during special nights
She'd slip under the covers out of sight
And between us she'd huddle
In a warm and tender cuddle.

I found her on the grass dead,
Only slightly marked on her beautiful head.
She must have been on her way home
From one of her long daily roams.
I washed her fur with my sad tears
A little friend for just three years.
I buried her near her favourite tree
Where nobody knows but Irene and me.

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Pretty Poppy 18/10/99