Portrait of a Cat: Blue Boy
My Blue Boy, O my graceful Gainspurrough,
The largest one of the entire brood:
Your beauteous satin velvet quietude
Makes you a bashful, blithe ideal beau!
You own no flake nor fleck that tends towards snow:
Like twilight with its mild and mythic mood,
On slate gray paws, in pious habitude,
Into the room you gradually flow.
A soft-edged, solemn, graceful evening mist,
A solemn mystery, wreathed in a purr!
You move into a room sedate and wise;
Like the last touch of moonlight you exist!
You glide: a platinum-blue chinchilla blur
Into the real with your round aqua eyes.
Written Feb 8, 2009 © Anissa Nedzel Gage, All rights reserved