A photo of a ginger cat relaxing on a path

Thanks to my cat: creative writing on a Saturday morning

Gingy, do not move.
You are my purring paperweight.
It is nine thirty four and all I can hear are the clocks.
I stroke your head as my love rolls over.
Your eyes say 'steady' as the bed rocks
and the covers are tugged.
I stroke the back of your head
and your ears twitch.
You purr and I am grateful,
I cannot remember the last time
I was so clear headed at the start of a weekend.

You are my totem.
I will use you to anchor myself in what others may do.
Whilst you are here I can lie to my self.
You are my excuse to assume
a position of leisure
when all my instincts usually say is work.
Get up. Do stuff.
Be prolific.
Death awaits and life is always ticking and tocking.
But I stretched.
And you turned around and jumped off.

Thought Jetty

Currently collecting my thoughts.