Be prepared to cry buckets. I shall, just copying it out.
The Lost Cat by EV Rieu
She took a last and simple meal when there were none to see her steal -
A jug of cream upon the shelf, a fish set out for dinner;
And now she walks a distant street with delicately sandalled feet,
And no-one gives her much to eat or weeps to see her thinner.
Come back beloved, come again, come back in joy, come back in pain,
To end our searching with a mew or with a purr our grieving;
And you shall have for lunch or tea whatever fish swim in the sea
And all the cream that's meant for me - and not a word of thieving!
I confess it's that time again, the month when my first Siamese Jacinth died, and my thoughts are with my lost girl. When she was a kitten I had a dream; I was high up on some cliffs in brilliant sunlight and there were snakes everywhere (I like snakes) and it was a sort of paradise; I knew that this was where Jassy would go when she died and it was beautiful, but the thought of losing her was heartbreaking. Still she stayed with me for many years.
So, this poem's in memory of Jacinth and all our lost cats.
Sorry for sentimentality!
