Janine


Janine was always on patrol,
Police extraordinaire with soul.
The backyard was her boulevard.
She made her rounds, stayed on her guard.

Why walk when you can run? Each day
Was greeted with a sense of play.
She would not be confined inside;
It was a point of feline pride.

Each night she would return to home,
Content to rest and not to roam.
When sleeping, she would gently stir
If petted, and would softly purr.

Her coat was sleek and silky black.
Her claws were white, sharp as a tack.
Her features fine were sculpted so
Exquisitely, from head to toe.

If love is stronger than the grave,
One day we may no longer mourn
Fair ones whose presence we still crave;
Our love will somehow be reborn.


©2017 Michael Fraley




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