My Sisters

 By Rondo, Kitty Poet

​Good day, friends.  I have returned and this time I will share my poetic thoughts on my sisters. As you know they are Mousie, Sweetie and Whiskers. -little terrors in their own rights but I still love them.

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Mousie



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​Mousie is our dear wee tabby
Smallest of all, she is not flabby.
Timid is she our gentle wee girl
But tease her much and your toes will curl.

She may be shy, she may be meek,
But don’t cross her path when it’s time to eat.
She hides all day on her covered chair,
Hardly moves at all from here to there.

But when the sun returns to fall
Upon the panes on yonder wall
She scampers to her nest so high
And soaks up rays both warm and dry
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Through windows shining in the sun
She surveys all ‘til she is done
From there she ‘sorbs the sunshine yellow
​And greets her friends with a joyful, ‘Hello!’

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Sweetie









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Sweet Cecily’s her name but she goes by Sweetie
Her bones are strong but not too meatie.
Feisty she is, she’s like a colt
Long legs she has and she loves to bolt
From bed to floor to wall to rack
She scares us when on Grammy’s back
​She pounces, then with a toss 
Of sail-sized ears she’s off
To adventures only in her head
And when she’s done she hits her bed.
A snooze, for that is all it is
Before she starts to skim and whizz
Past others scattered ‘neath our roof
She chases flick’ring lights and floof
To parts unknown they scatter far
Afraid of Sweetie, our feisty star.

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Whiskers







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​Eldest of all is Whiskers dear
To guests she shows her charm and cheer.
Bestows on all who enter in
Sweet purrs and trills for all to hear.

On laps she sits with one broad grin
She soaks up pets and listens in
Dispenses fur from tail and rear
On each dear guest, to Gram’s chagrin.

She loves her comforts, big and soft
‘Neath duvet tent, her favourite loft
She hunkers down for morning nap
And don’t disturb or ears she’ll cuff.

Once rest is over and ready to snack
The dear old girl says, ‘Now that is that!’
Out of my way, you scurvy beast
It’s time I wander o’er to feast.
 
Chubby old girl, she is a blight
When food is served she’s first in flight
She loves to eat and parks her snout
Down in that dish, That too’s a fright.

To nibble, nosh and snuff about
She stops at nothing, a paw to clout
Should others ever dare alight
‘That dish is not for you, you lout.’
​Hissssss!
© Whiskers, Mouse, Sweetie, Etude & Rondo - Mischief and Mayhem Central

Comments are welcomed.  Let's keep them light and fun.  

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