She came upon a Christmas day
abandoned, all alone
a wee thing, timid, frightened she
whose stomach empty groaned
watching those at midday meal
with merry festive tone

Caught was she between the fear
and fascinated gaze
so when discovered in her cove
still, silently she lay
Tenderhearted were the hands
which drew her from the clay.

Quaking, all her instincts rose
and screamed that fly must she
But warm milk lifted to her lips
o’ertook her will to flee
And all forgotten but the warmth
which filled her tiny tummy.

With kind words and soothing tone
they urged her, please, to stay
And fed her from their table
And gave her games to play
A warm bed in a sheltered home
And love to lift each day

Now she sits in majesty
upon my lap this day
Then curls up into a ball
in peaceful sleep to lay
And with a loud and tranquil purr
declares, she thinks she’ll stay.


(This is an attempt at a ballad.  Argh!  Find I either get the meter right or the rhyme, but seldom both.  It is written about the little kitten who came to be a part of our lives at the end of last year.  We named her Roo because she jumps like a kangaroo.)