(Poem 137 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My cat and I had a little talk
before she went into surgery.
I was warned by the vet that
this could be the end for Beauty.
Her heart is now much weaker,
not as strong as it once was.
Removing the growths on her
chest might need to be put on pause.
But my sweet girl is miserable,
I can tell because I know her well.
She needs help, comfort, relief,
my poor lovely, gentle belle.
I told her she’s been so strong,
served as my constant friend.
It’s time for her to rest for now;
let her body have time to mend.
@Home Studio – 137th poem of the year






