Too busy to think about myself I used to stand
From morning till evening, sentry,
Between sleeplessness and armed excursions,
Where it was too hot during the day- time,
But when enough green and youth and keen eyes
And something inborn was there to keep
Me a dreamer nearly happy.
The sun had just mounted to burn out the day
When you in stripes and colours and agile beauty
Caught me in your tiny curious eyes. There was
A twitch and a flash of the tail and a shrill cry:
Was it a spoof, warning or squirrel regard?
What speed, twinkle, your brown-gray hair in flight,
I in regimentals- a prisoner of existence.
Days passed: When I stood still and solemn
It seemed at least for once our differences vanished
And you alighted my right boot, found your way up,
The rawness of the tickle slowly turning
Into sweet torment and near my belt line
Your paw permeating into my raw flesh,
Infusion of agony and ease!
What startled you who ran down your hesitant run?
Did I yell, shriek in throbbing ecstasy?
You waited a second near my knee
To watch my looks and took leave for ever
To stir memory and desire in vacant hours.
Raveendran N.V.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/interaction-2/
