Silken fur, soft and warm, slips smooth beneath my fingers
Long-gone now, but down the years, this memory always lingers
Whiskers on my cheek, wake me, startled, from my sleep
So many, many cherished moments, this one I will keep
Ping-pong balls, fish on strings, and a battered catnip mouse
Baby assassins honing skills spread laughter through my house
Feathers and leaves, mice and birds, a rat, maybe a rabbit
Trophy collection growing, until age and sloth erode the habit
Sun shines through uncounted pinpricks, riddling my lounge curtain
Where tiny paws, with tiny claws, learnt to climb, so uncertain
My favourite armchair, past its best, tattered and torn because
Mighty hunters prowl these halls, and find no trees to sharpen claws
On winter's nights, ferocious killer forgoes those ruthless ways
Curls up, kneading my poor knee, and there, contented, plays
A plaintive cry beside my bed, seeks shelter from the storm
Then cold wet fur, and ecstatic purr, curl up on someone warm
They gambol happily through my life, creatures of the wild, untamed
and in their careless, carefree wake, casual chaos reigns
But when, too soon, their span is done, each one as they depart
Leaves tiny scars upon my soul, and pawprints on my heart
John T Shillito
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pawprints-on-my-heart/
