Cat

Soft Silk and Creamy Milk

There’s no animal that’s more special than Bailey.
He begs and pleads for your milk,
he’d love a blanket made from silk.
He’ll run and run,
he never stops having fun.
Climbing in plastic bags,
he loves when dog tails wag.
Bailey is very proud,
most of the time his head is stuck in the clouds.
He’s very sweet,
but he’ll never admit defeat.
Bailey is orange and tan,
he loves his food that comes from a can,
He hates his crunchy food,
but he’s always in a delightful mood.
Bailey’s not very smart,
but he sure does love tearing homework apart.
He’s very fat,
but over all he’s still the best cat!

~Hannah Luce

A small bit of pain stained my face. Two of my left-hand fingers slid down two tiny scratches beside my eye. They had been drawn by my cat’s claws. The room was bright, the light slipping through the slats of the softly tilted blinds. The bright would be gone soon. Thinning; it set shadows on my unmade bed, on the worn, slightly dusty paint-stained floor, on the paint lines of my bright blue desk, on the couch with the old purple checkered blanket. I was sitting on the soft blanket, with the deep ink stain from when I was seven and my cousin left a pen sitting on it, and the few soft little holes where it had caught on the springs of the couch. My feet were browned around the edges and slightly sparkly from the silver glitter I had poured over my floor a few weeks ago. My light blue shorts were sprinkled with drips of water that had come from my hair which was still damp, and gathered up against my neck, cold and uncomfortable.

Today a new
life was slipped
into the folds of our
family.

Her green eyes look
like dark plants
emerging out of cold
earth; her
coat is like
the color of snow at
night: gray with
puddles of pure,
white
paws.

Everyone is already
in love with her
infectious
sighing
purr.

And yet,
after petting her and
cooing at just how
adorable she is,
my family sits

This is my cat. She isn't really evil, she just really looked it in my picture. I think she looks like a witch's familiar here.

Spice
By Rachel Pitcher

I love my cat with and S
Because she is so spooky, sporty, and spontaneous.
She is a sneaky, slimy, and shifty.
She is secretive and selfish.
She is shameless, when I scold her.
When I scream she shivers.

I Love my cat with and S

Because she is spectacular and sparkly.
She is loving and spicy.
She is brilliant, beautiful and brave.

I release my feline side.
I want to go for the ride.
What do I have to do for love?
Is hope really a white dove?
I take my whip and punish the bad.
It doesn’t make me sad.
The deserve what punishments they get.
It is the best and worst bet.
They try to get their way.
I wont let them stay.
They need to go away.
They do not understand my powers.

I release my feline side.
I want to go for the ride.
What do I have to do for love?
Is hope really a white dove?
I take my whip and punish the bad.
It doesn’t make me sad.
The deserve what punishments they get.
It is the best and worst bet.
They try to get their way.
I wont let them stay.
They need to go away.
They do not understand my powers.

I release my feline side.
I want to go for the ride.
What do I have to do for love?
Is hope really a white dove?
I take my whip and punish the bad.
It doesn’t make me sad.
The deserve what punishments they get.
It is the best and worst bet.
They try to get their way.
I wont let them stay.
They need to go away.
They do not understand my powers.