35. I miss my cat

Spenserian sonnets are hard, folks. But I undertook the challenge. Not wanting to go too crazy, though, I chose subject matter near to my heart: my cat, and how I miss him.

Not my cat

I've missed my cat each day we've been apart

and frequently my laptop coughs up hairs

recalling, not his dander, but his heart

and how it shines out through his soulful stares.

I miss the way his plaintive voice declares

he's hungry or wants in; each day he greets

the sun and me with claws and haughty glares

like Grendel saying hi to sleeping Geats.

The couple seeing to his pets and meats

makes sure he's loved as much as he desires.

But back home soon we'll have him, ears to feets,

as Sam returned, done traveling, to the Shire.

I'm happy that I get my kitty back

but sad for those who have to give up Jack.

My cat