She must be in heaven now,
With an angel duly assigned,
Eyes closed and purring,
Basking in eternal sunshine.
I hope the angel makes very sure,
That she gets her fish and rice,
She ain’t the kind of cat,
Who will go chasing mice.
In winter ,she likes cuddling up,
Sinking in tummies soft and deep,
So they had better puff those clouds,
And give her a snug, cozy sleep.
She doesn’t mind other cats,
But she is very refined,
So hope those scallywags up there,
Don’t trouble her philosophical mind,
She has the sweetest mew,
The loveliest you will hear,
No winged harpist halo and all,
Can come anywhere near.
She doesn’t like it when you feel sad,
Remember that, all you up above,
All of heaven put together,
Cannot equal her love.
Look after her all of you,
Make sure she is fine.
Or there will be no anger worse
To deal with, than mine.
When her eyes grow distant,
And her thoughts are far away,
Tell her that I wish too,
She would come back and stay.
1 comment:
RIP, Beautiful Leah.
Post a Comment