AN OLD MAN’S PRAYER FOR HIS CAT

AN OLD MAN’S PRAYER FOR HIS CAT
by George Ware

So many years ago she came to me,
a trusting Tiny ball of fluff that climbed my leg to play
And sleep upon my lap.
For all those years,
and still,
we shared our joys and Love but now are both grown old and soon must die.
Her eyes,
like mine,
are clouded and would no longer Serve to catch her prey.
Nor could she understand the missing saucer,
cold Hearth and empty bed,
nor bend her ways to suit Some stranger’s house.
Pray,
take her first O Lord,
that I may see her resting,
Safe,
deep beneath the apple tree that once she loved,
To climb with such agility,
far beyond my reach.
I shall grieve with understanding,
then anyone can bury me.