Pet Cemetery

There is the wonderful narrative quality in your poems that makes me see the whole scene you describe...I feel like I'm there. I question the use of "saunter"- I've always heard it in sentences like "She sauntered into the bar in her slinky dress"...however, there is a change in connotation between different English speaking regions and then the regional dialects, so I have to keep that in mind. As always, masterfully penned my fellow feline-loving friend! Jhena Mariposa

awwwww bless, what a lovely poem. Love the way you narrate your pieces. One suggestion, maybe change the the first stanza to ''deceased thrones'' in the second or last line for your rhyming so that it isnt stones twice. only a suggestion though, great piece again!! vix Optimism in adversity nutures positive outcomes

Good to see your stretching your imagination ... your a great storyteller I would like to see you try a short story or prose ... just something to think about love and hugs Jayne-Chloe

Great and very touching write! Don't know what I was expecting but when Cuddles "appeared" it was a charming effect. The other thing that touched me very deeply was when the "child in pigtails" who was grieving and then, perhaps in the grasp of a beautiful memory, began smiling; that one stanza, by itself, is a treasure. My only criticism, if I may, is the use of the descriptor "deceased thrones." Perhaps I'm just being too literal but the word "thrones" seems very off!

I too thought deceased thrones was a bit off ... what about deceased stones ?? just an idea ... I have done a small edit on the format and had a little fiddle with it see what you think if you dont like it just ignore it lol love and hugs Jayne-Chloe Walking through the pearly white gates, I headed towards the deceased thrones. An aroma overwhelms my senses, from flowers that lay by the tombstones. I read some rhyming epitaphs. A tear flows freely on my cheek. I feel a presence, something familiar; moving onwards, to find what I seek. A child in pigtails held beautiful lilies, head held low; I knew she was grieving. I watch her lay her flowers, speaking; then notice her suddenly smiling. I’m shroud in a strange atmosphere, there’s an awareness of being observed. Mesmerised by a sculpture, a Siamese cat; with hypnotic eyes, I’m quite unnerved. I could hear the crunch of gravel. A spiritual presence filled the air. I wasn’t afraid of the presumption. A gentle sound, I sensed was there. Searching the newly mown grass, I see small impressions serrate. She’s walking beside me, I felt her. Sweet Cuddles, my departed mate. I remember her like I saw her yesterday. She was walking with me then too. But today I can only feel her, with no reservation, in this I knew If only she were resting in this cemetery, so I could look upon her gravestone. My cat now gone some thirteen years, to me, she’s finally come home. I gaze upon the contour in the distance. Was it Cuddles watching with loving eyes? It fills me with peace and serenity. She’s with me no matter where she lies.

I love this :) Very vivid, and inspiring.