Sonnet: To My Cat Sweetie

I cannot claim that you do not shed,

nor can I pretend that you enjoy the brush.

You often wake me demanding to be fed,

and you howl even when I beg you to hush.


More than once you have made me bleed

with undeservèd wounds from sharpened claws,

and when you’ve crossed the fence, you pay no heed

to my pleas to climb back over because


otherwise I must trespass and force

my way through prickly limbs and tangled vines

to reach you there, non-chalant, of course;

any accusations you deny.


But when you snuggle up, though I start sneezing,

your warmth comforts me; I find it pleasing.


Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper


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