The Cat Recluse Is Coming… Poem by Mark Heathcote

The Cat Recluse Is Coming…



The cat recluse is coming out to play
Pawing cotton balls, once more they say
Let her ravage your soul
She's leaving her bolthole
She's so hungry and alone, don't allay…

Riddle me a witch; I'll call my queen bitch
Lie by her in a layby ditch
She's just the cure
The one ligature
That'll spellbind me in a loving niche.

She'll take control and whip the leather
It's a once in a lifetimes chance to see her
Her flesh and blood,
A river oiled, feted
Pours and purrs into every joint and fibre.

I can't deny her - moment to be the tiger
Ooh, with pencilled lashes - eyes locked together
We're dreaming in the choir
Ooh, I'm her heart's desire
Ooh, the cat recluse is coming out
She's coming for her dinner…
And I'm just her chopped liver.

Saturday, March 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: song
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Colleen Courtney 22 March 2014

Ah! And the cat and the mouse shall play!

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