Poetry, Decembering, The Key in the Door and other poems

Kissing 4

‘I’m a kitten’ my grand-daughter told me,

cavorting round my legs on all fours.

‘You’ve just got me for a present’,

rubbing her back against me

in well-observed cat-fashion.

‘And I’ll love you very much

if you’ll give me milk’

She kissed my bare summer legs,

soft as a butterfly,

unforgettable.

I stroked my dear kitten,

so pettable,

went to the kitchen

fetched some milk

for her to lap,

in a saucer, of course.