Tiny and wee
And black as can be,
With a bit of white
That showed in the night.
Born number three,
It was wait and see.
Something not right,
Yet she summoned her might.
Yet she summoned her might.
I couldn't foresee
What she'd mean to me,
That little sprite.
I stayed hopeful and bright.
It was not to be.
It was not to be.
She had to be free
From fetters so light.
So she reached a new height.
So she reached a new height.
Now back to three,
Brothers, sisters and me.
I will think of this night
And hold her memory tight.
I will think of this night
And hold her memory tight.
Third of Four
May 3, 2012-May 6, 2012
May 3, 2012-May 6, 2012
Sweet tribute. Sorry Third didn't make it. xx
ReplyDeleteI am quite surprised at what an impact she made upon me, AM.
ReplyDeleteAnother of nature's wonders.
xx
I very much appreciated the light and gentle tone of your poem, which deals with such a painful situation.
ReplyDeleteI'm not surprised at all- you have a deep love of animals, and understand that such a love develops in a moment. Despite her short time here, she left a big imprint on your heart, sweet little fighter that she was.
ReplyDeletexx
ahh. I am sorry. she was here and contended.
ReplyDeleteThat is so icredibly sad.
ReplyDeleteMy heart really goes out to little Three. I can truly empathise, because my baby daughter passed away too.
But there is light at the end of the tunnel...Y
Ygraine
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry to hear of the loss of your daughter. I cannot imagine the pain of losing a child. I have two girls and a boy and they mean more than the world to me.
This poem speaks of a wee kitten.
I thank you for your kind words.
Dale
I just wanted to say thank you for the comment you left on my last post.
ReplyDeleteIt was so, so, appreciated.
This is just beautiful, Dale. So touching. I'm sorry I missed it when you posted originally.
ReplyDelete