Funny side note on this poem: I love cats, and I had a cat growing up, but somewhere during college I suddenly became allergic to them. Like, can’t-go-near-one-or-I-start-itching-and-rasping-for-breath allergic. So there’s an extra layer of nostalgia and catharsis in this for me, and I hope that comes through. We have dogs now, and they’re different but also great. Pets in general are one of the truly wonderful things in life, in my opinion.
I decided to go a little simpler with this rhyme scheme in the interests of telling as flexible a story as possible. I knew what I wanted this to be, and I didn’t want to compromise content for form. Enjoy, have a great week, and of course, please feel free to like and comment!
Finnegan’s Cats
His robes of purple hue with moons and stars embroidered white
His beard of ashen tint, his gnarled hand, his failing sight
All bore a potent witness to the length and breadth of days
That Finnegan the Mage had lived in his peculiar ways
To know the man more deeply than his clothes or vital stats
What one must know is Finnegan had lived to breed his cats
And these felines were not consigned to keeping mice from towers
For Finnegan bred them such that each had magic powers
*
It all began when he was young, making magical maps
Of unknown lands he wandered through while keeping notes on scraps
Of paper that he stowed away inside a tiny tin
That never filled no matter how many notes he put in
A jungle land without a name appeared before his feet
He stepped inside then unaware his fate he soon would meet.
Not ten steps in he saw the beast, its fur a golden sheen
Its sparkling eyes turned toward him and he wished to flee the scene
He thought it would jump for his throat and drain him then and there
It hissed and spit and snarled and for his death he did prepare
It stalked him and he tried to run, but his feet did not move
With every step it took his odds of dying did improve
It reached his leg which then was shaking like a leaf in wind
But then it looked up at him and he could have sworn it grinned
It rubbed against his leg and at its touch he did perceive
This cat had magic in it, though it was hard to believe
*
He lured the tom with snacks to follow from the jungle land
And by the time they reached his home the puss ate from his hand.
His newfound feline friend was glad to leave his jungle home
And curl up fireside while Finnegan leafed through a tome
Of spells that might reveal the powers of the golden cat
Then found one and looked up to where the sun-hued beast had sat
But found him gone from where he had been the moment before
He’d left the room all too soon without opening the door
The mage spun round and found the feline smiling at his back
With its hindquarters disappearing ‘neath the potion rack
Finnegan figured he had dozed, or else the cat had snuck
But then his cuckoo clock bestirred and a new hour struck
It made him glance away for less time than it takes to yawn
And when he looked back at the rack his friend again was gone
Again, again he looked around and saw the feline smirk
From every nook and cranny where a tabby shape could lurk
Then saw him not, and feared the magic cat had gone for good
Then he looked down and found—between his legs the feline stood
And rubbed against him and purred softly with a pleasure sound
That told the mage his new friend had chosen to stick around
Most men would have been scared to let this cat sleep in their bed
But Finnegan knew—this fantastic feline must be bred
To see what creatures could exist, what powers they’d display
He set about to find out and began without delay
*
He named the tomcat Sunshine and brought him a molly girl
Who was in heat and invited Sunshine to take a whirl
Inside the basement levels of Finnegan’s stone-built tower
Tom took his molly down and spent many a private hour
And brought her back up pregnant with a litter numbered five
T’was two moons after that the mystic kitties did arrive
The first he called Hyperion, fur gold just like his dad
The second mottled black and brown, Finnegan named him Chad
The third, the runt, he called Bernard, he was all over grey
The fourth was cross-eyed and bestriped, the mage named him Pompeii
The fifth was Dragon for he roared more than the rest combined
And made demands, issued commands, the others mewed and whined
*
The mage’s tower came alive all through that winter’s cold
Fireside the molly nursed the children of Sunshine the Gold.
For seven months the newborns grew ‘til summer came once more
Still magic did not manifest among the kitten corps
The mage thought likely it would not, that Sunshine was unique
And told his kitty not to think that this made him a freak
His teleporting was a blessing even if his kin
Would not receive the powers which in Sunshine’s fate had been
But then the one called Dragon roared for a delicious treat
And out his mouth came a fire spout along with smoke and heat
*
Within a week the other kits had all got powers too
And in the mage’s tower all was a hullabaloo
For Dragon roared at every hour and set something ablaze
The mage cast water spells and kept the boy within his gaze
Hyperion could shrink himself to the size of a mouse
Or multiply his bulk until he filled up a whole house
Chad opened door and windows, locks of all kind at his will
No snack could be kept from his spree of belly overfill
Bernard could eat a piece of dirt and poop a lump of gold
And did at every chance no matter how the mage did scold
T’was only Pompeii whose crossed eyes and stripes had powers not
He only napped, for work inapt, and laid around a lot
And yet it was Pompeii perhaps who Finnegan loved best
The cross-eyed cat slept always nestled to the mage’s breast
*
The others also had special places within his heart
But their first purpose was to serve the mage’s breeding art
He bred these four with other cats, from lands spread far and wide
And let his intuition be his feline breeding guide
Before too many generations in the mage’s charge
The tower’s population grew uncomfortably large
Each room was full of felines in the confines of the stones
They sat on every surface, kings and queens upon their thrones
Their powers had effects the mage could not undo in time
And he began to find all kinds of fuzz and schmutz and slime
Poor Dragon was locked in a room with water on the walls
And outside blackened wood and stone decorated the halls
*
Though Finnegan was too often of hazards unaware
He thought perhaps some of these cats should get out of his hair
Thusly he sent a few as gifts to close magical pals
And spread enchanted cats to myriad distant locales
Even Sunshine the Golden and his knocked up molly girl
Were sent to teleport in the court of some distant Earl
T’was only Pompeii and his breeding stock the mage kept ‘round
As he kept on pursuing the mission that he had found
*
By now he had magical cats who were enough apart
In bloodline to breed two of them, which would not have been smart
When they were siblings or one generation removed from
But Finnegan had waited for this rosy day to come
He bred two magic cats together and his heart beat fast
He wondered if the kit would die or else have powers vast
Two months went by the babe was born and when it came of age
Its eyes turned golden-hued and then its powers did engage
What powers the young cat had at its calico command
His fur could heal and he could fly, high up above the land
His sisters too had powers all, of every different stripe
Just as their colorations defied easy archetype
The mage bred on, and sent his gifts, as generations passed
The total population of occult felines amassed
Finnegan was surprised when a message arrived one day
From a distant King who wished a cat, and offered to pay
*
The mage was not immune to money’s loud and siren call
Stone towers do not pay for their own upkeep, after all
And so he sent a cat to purr for the far-flung sovereign
It too breathed fire, the mage desired some other tower burn
Before too long at all had passed another message came
Another crown wanted a brown cat who could do the same
So Finnegan began to systematize his program
To make designer magic cats for each Sir and Madame
*
Three decades went by like a day, Finnegan grew ancient
And Pompeii grew old at his side, a feline lifetime spent
The cross-eyed kit grew grey and soft, his eyes went dull and blind
But always to the other cats and the mage he was kind
And Kings and Queens and Princes called upon the tower mage
His cats became the hottest accessory of the age
Until he grew too old and weak to breed more magic pets
Just hung around the tower in his moon-embroidered sweats
*
Pompeii was with him always sleeping nestled in his lap
And trying to coerce the mage’s frail hand to enwrap
His head or tum or tail somewhere to rub against the fur
And Finnegan felt useful when he heard the creature purr
And thought not of his end though that end soon would surely come
For both the mage and his non-magic, perfect feline chum
They whiled away their final days, together ’til the end
And Finnegan felt gratitude for having such a friend
The mage had not grown lonely as the years had passed him on
For Pompeii had been within his reach when he woke each dawn
The cat was nothing special, just a purring ball of fur
Yet somehow just his presence caused the mage’s heart to stir
Four paws, two cross eyes and a tongue that stuck out when he slept
In not a single magic art was old Pompeii adept
Still he was the greatest cat to live in the mage’s thrall
For the power to give comfort is the greatest of them all
END
What a great poem, and I love the message about what’s really important - a faithful friend.
aww, quite fun and you snuck in "a rosy day" ;-)