Grace Atkinson - Contentment
Samantha sits upon the hearth <br /> And, basking in its glowing warmth, <br /> She polishes the silken fur <br /> That covers every inch of her <br /> From ears to tail and in between <br /> Until it has a lustrous sheen. <br /> She stretches then, without a pause, <br /> And flexes in and out her claws <br /> And looks around the room as though <br /> Deciding where she next will go. <br /> I beckon her to come to me <br /> And she jumps up upon my knee. <br /> I stroke her warm and silky fur <br /> As loudly she begins to purr. <br /> She settles in as if to doze, <br /> Her copper eyes so slowly close <br /> And holding her upon my knee <br /> We both slip into reverie. <br /> For what she gives she asks not much <br /> A dish of food, a loving touch; <br /> There is no other creature that <br /> Brings one contentment like a cat.<br /><br />Grace Atkinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/contentment-6/