By Phyllis Beebe

I have an amorous Siamese cat,
I rub his tummy, he likes that.
He pays me back by licking my arm,
He thinks that shows his masculine charm.
He has a sleek, svelt, Siamese sister,
And, really, I'd much rather he kissed her!


Vashti is a delicate Siamese cat
With a brown masked face and blue eyes that
Gently look in opposite directions.
And that's just one of her imperfections.
Her little brown tail has a tiny kink
Near the end, and what's more, I think
She believes she's not a cat at all!
Sometimes she bounces like a rubber ball
Or swims across the rug like a furry fish
Or climbs curtains like a bird. I wish
She'd sit on my lap or a cushion and purr
But that would be much too common for her.
For Vashti after all, is a Siamese cat
And there's nothing quite as un-common as that!


Vashti and Rama sit on their bed,
Each delicately washing the other's head.
She laps his ear, he laves her nose
Which she endures with eyes tight closed.
Suddenly lickings turn into bites
And they're off on one of their running fights.
Out of their basket and through the door,
Small feet pounding over the floor.
A menacing growl, a claw that hovers.
How very like human lovers!