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Bathing a Skycat (poem): A poem about bathing a skycat.
~ 448 words, Created by: Valerie Joanne Higgins (Writer), Ellen Million (Inspiration), Posted: 02/17/10
A rustle and she shifted on my shoulder,Author's Notes
Sometimes you don't need to be a seer to see.
But before I could grab her,
She tumbled into a long glide before he had chance to flee.
His little lizard feet skittered over each floating leaf
Cursing under my breath I saw her belly flop splash sink him.
Sleek through the water she swam carrying her prize.
Oh no! Not back on my shoulder!
Streaked with green, she stunk beyond belief!
Smug and trailing algaeous goo.
She smelt like...
You cannot imagine.
So try and catch a skycat,
Who thinks you want the lizard she dismembered.
While what you did last time,
Is starting to be remembered.
My clothes are ruined and I pretend defeat,
I turn for home, while she,
Scrambling up the nearest branch,
Leaps soggily from tree to tree,
Pretending in her turn,
Not to be following me.
I shut the door smartly before she can get her stinking self inside.
The water quickly boils on a blue speeded hob.
I carry the empty bath outside,
Several journeys fill it as she watches so warily from the fence.
I try a sneaky catch but she is quick to flit and hide.
A trail of scraps no better, she is quick enough to grab them,
Without succumbing to the bribe.
I have red scratches through the green dirt,
That is not so good.
Skycat will just have to stay outside and sleep on the bench,
Until a few rain showers have washed away her stench.
I boil more water and fetch another pail.
I strip to my shift and get in the bath to soak my scratches clean.
I split some soap stems with my thumbnail,
And thrash them through the water until the bubbles come.
Bubbles shine with rainbows in the sun.
I splash in the sweet scented water and I laugh at myself.
What kind of fool tries to catch a skycat?
I sing the bath songs I sang to my babies.
Skycat sitting on the fence post watching me have fun.
I never see her leap and glide,
I just get landed on with a thundering splash.
She licks my face and I try not to think of crunched lizard,
While I lather her down and she purrs.
She clings back round my neck and stays there.
Even when I take us both under the garden pump to rinse off the suds.
Then she lies on the bench in the sunshine,
While her fur dries and her stripes slowly reappear.
I squelch away to get dry clothes and a glass of wine.
Then come back to find her, fluffing herself out and looking smug.
This was written in response to Ellen Million's prompt in the first Torn World Muse Fusion on Livejournal, 9th February 2010