By Phyllis Beebe
I have an amorous Siamese cat,
I
rub his
tummy, he likes that.
He pays me back by
licking my arm,
He thinks that shows his
masculine charm.
He has a sleek, svelt,
Siamese sister,
And, really, I'd much rather
he kissed her!
Vashti is a delicate Siamese
cat
With a
brown masked face and blue eyes that
Gently
look in opposite directions.
And that's just
one of her imperfections.
Her little brown
tail has a tiny kink
Near the end, and what's
more, I think
She believes she's not a cat at
all!
Sometimes she bounces like a rubber
ball
Or swims across the rug like a furry
fish
Or climbs curtains like a bird. I
wish
She'd sit on my lap or a cushion and
purr
But that would be much too common
for her.
For Vashti after all, is a Siamese
cat
And there's nothing quite as
un-common as that!
Vashti and Rama sit on their
bed,
Each
delicately washing the other's head.
She laps
his ear, he laves her nose
Which she endures
with eyes tight closed.
Suddenly lickings turn
into bites
And they're off on one of their
running fights.
Out of their basket and
through the door,
Small feet pounding over the
floor.
A menacing growl, a claw that
hovers.
How very like human
lovers!