The loud purring
Of a sensitive soul
Rumbles across my lap
A gentleman-mouser
Whose claws are rarely
Sheathed in my flesh
Save for those few
Accidental motions.
He pauses in his
Hypnotic kneading
Of careful paws
Twitches a whisker
Opens a lazy eye
We are content
Devoted Familiar and
Current Provider of ear-scratches
Precious moments spent together
Do not last as long
As they once did
Those rare islands
Of near-silence
I try to spend
Writing.
Such a distraction
Is sadly unacceptable
In company
My failure to stroke
Soft furry egos
While fingers
Play over lettered keys
And coffee cools
At a careless elbow
Lead to gentle taps
Polite, then more insistent
I frown and mutter
Trying to shake loose
Some old ideas
From new forehead creases
Transmit them to my dusty screen
Before the next
Set of demands is issued
By the charming pout
Of the other House Tyrant
Whose three-year-reign
Continues to sway
The working lives
Of all her subjects.
It is not enough.
I cannot please all
Of my many masters
Not this day.
As gentle snores fade to yawns
I sift through the tired
Dog-eared card catalogue
Housed temporarily for safekeeping
Within my rapidly emptying skull
Brain cycling faster
The vocalisation
Begins in earnest
Close behind my ear
“Miaouw!”
He is starting to insist
“Pssst! Shush!”
It is a futile gesture
To try to silence
An old friend
The search continues
There are paws on my shoulder
Tapping, prodding
A hint of sharpness
A gentle shove
Hot breath on my neck
Can I find a verbal noun,
Subclause, or synonym
To convey my sense
Of panic at the first stirrings
Of any sleeping creature
Under four feet
But still a giant?
Too late.
“Mummy!”
I hiss my discomfort
At the sudden perforation
Of my thigh.
Time’s up once again.
careless
The Tourist
To the tourist trespassing
Taking selfies on the stairs
During a fire safety
Evacuation drill:
Were you perhaps trying
To capture the moment
Before you were pushed
For documentary posterity?
Or were you born supplied
With a camera on a stick
Inserted somewhere sweaty?
Whichever; I hope
The gentle smack
Of an irate Fire Warden
To the back of your empty head
Rearranged your somewhat
Selfish priorities
Although I don’t doubt
We will receive your
Carelessly written complaint
Citing unfair treatment
In due course.
I do look forward to writing
An appropriate response.
DElectable
If I were one, not two or three
I wouldn’t care what you thought of me
I’d have the choice to change, to be
The person inside, outside. Free.
But there is you, and her and him
And cool, and chic, and fair and slim
I don’t know where I should begin
To twist myself to meet each whim
Opinions hover overhead
What might she think? What would be said?
You couldn’t tell what’s in my head
I gathered thoughts, but lost the thread…
They’re moulding me to something new
To shine in every interview
And sell my soul – in shades of blue
With hints at things that could be true.
Sharing of Resources
The partition or division
Of a simple china bowl
May require some precision
And decisions as you go
For the politics of office
Mean it simply doesn’t do
To burst in upon a colleague
When they’re going to the loo
Please remember there’s a door lock
To preserve our modesty
It may help avoid a sudden shock
When desperate to pee
In the privacy of porcelain
By all means take your time
Just as long as you’re secured within
That’s absolutely fine
Yet if you by chance omit
To turn the knob and hide your haste
Then I’m sorry for your snit
But don’t deserve that bitchy face
Katherine Shirley 