THE CAT

The cat Louise purrs
and whispers in patience
from a touching sleepy face
as she wakes me up
and motions to me
in a pitty- pat grin
from the blinds
of the draped jalousie window
near the Scandinavian
blond furniture
with her gentle grace glowing
to relax in the shadows
by the piano
from an unselfish
baritone tremor of the wind
from the partly opened doors
which races over me
thinking of this poem
at a circle of leisure
on my sofa
as my riffs gesture
to her from my tenor sax
having the pink
and red salmon fish
and herring
from the Cape's river
and pond beds
prepared, delivered
and placed in her cover dish
water in her love cup
as she is fond
of eating in a corner alone
and drinking by the hallways
of my den's corridor
as is always her pleasure.