Lady, Her Majesty

A Poem by Harlotte Crow

My little kitty... that's literally all I can say :)

Is she a gift from the gods or is she a goddess?
Well, I treat her like one.
When it comes to the art of elegance, she exhibits her prowess.
She is exemplary in everything she does.

Lady, her distinguished.

Pompous she sits upon her throne.
Her throne is wherever she wants it to be.
She is in a category of her own.
I don’t think I could find another like her.
Lady, her highness.

Like Big Brother, she watches from unseen locations.
The woman has a zero-tolerant rule.
She runs her kingdom and neighboring nations.
That’s the hallway, bedroom, and bathroom.
Lady, her monarch.

Like the snake, she will stalk her prey until the time is right.
A small gray tiger, she will hop and pounce upon her prey.
Her green eyes are the bushes and the grass, a gray shadow in the night.
She eats the cat food from her bowl in the morning however.
Lady, the predator.

Sleek with elegant curvature.
Fifty shades of gray exploit her shiny and forever shedding coat.
The calico tabby of the century, she is bred anything but pure.
Her gray canvas is infiltrated with brown and white stripes.
Lady, the dapper.

Elegant duchess by day, playful kitten by night.
She shall defeat the evil red dot, and fluffy ball attached to a string.
She fills the hearts of small bugs, rodents, and the dog with fright.
Here the dog is bigger than she is…
Lady, the belligerent.

Treat her with kindness or you will be reprimanded.
She is the most respected robe, solemn enforcer of what is just under her law.
All land is her land, if it is not, prepare to be conquered and commanded.
The girl is a handful, but it’s me she has trained, I’m her court jester.
Lady, her majesty.