Thread: Ajax

In advance, it has been quite a while. I haven't written poetry in many months, but I'm attempting to begin again.
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When he rubs his small, soft face
against yours,
your insides melt and run
like hot sugar.


His motor thrum thrum thrums
as he sleeps beside you,
tail twitching now and then as he pursues
a rabbit in his sleep.


You love the way he winds around your legs
and looks up at you with candy brown eyes
hunger hunger hunger
and the way he rumbles
even as he eats.


During the dark hours of the night
he will come and lay next to your head,
soft and silent,
only the steady kneading of the blanket
alerting you to his presence.


His sister detests the small, energetic thing,
how he decides a snaking tail
is a snake,
how he decides she is the best landing pad
when jumping down
from the table.


But what I love the best
is when my own love holds him -
cradling the tiny kitten carefully in his arms
and looking down with such absolute love


that I cannot wait
but think of a different sort of baby in those arms,
and I almost burst with impatience
for all the joy that the future
surely holds.

Absolutely loved this, beautiful and tender. Your poetic talent has not rusted, Damien.