I am such a bad mother.
I have written poems about all of my children (my pets are my children, duh) EXCEPT for Contessa, my sweet little calico cat. She's been a part of my family for almost 6 years (5 years longer than both Ellie and Avalon!) and I can't believe I have just recently finished a poem about her.
I'm not going to lie, it was tough. She's a tough gal to write about. But I think I succeeded...especially since the title is 'Tessa Bear' and she is, after all, my little bear. (Don't ask...we don't really know how it started. She's just always reminded me more of a little bear cub than a cat!)
Tessa Bear
Once I stumbled upon a bear,
a tiny cub of only four pounds,
with eyes that wilt
as dew droplets clinging
to the end of daisy petals
in warm morning air,
straining for the earth
as gravity applies his greedy pull.
This bear grew curious to me
as I found her to have long white whiskers
on either side of her blush button nose.
These whiskers fanned out
and fluttered a light breeze to her fur
where she twitched that nose
towards an unknown smell.
As the bear stretched towards me
with white gloved paws,
I saw her needle thin piercing nails
as they flexed out from each nub of a finger
and magically retreated
back into hibernation under the fur.
Such a bear was this!
This brown, black, and white blotted babe
became a miniature, harmless beast
with the love of play
and a need for cuddle.
In moments of grand excitement,
she roars with a voice
like soft raindrops against a black window.
And when comfort covers her,
the full vibrations humming out
through her chest provide a precious purr
to lull one to sleep.
She carries the feline silhouette
whilst dancing on fences in the moonlight.
Yet with a constant hunger
for the bitter sweetness of honey,
she remains my runt of a bear
whose purrs match my own in slumber
and whose sandpaper tongue
suckles my milk dipped fingers
like a cub to a mother's teat.
March 21, 2011
