Of Mice and Meows

The Cat Whisperer

She whispers
Ever so softly
like the flapping of butterfly wings
as they flit around a sleeping Thumbelina

She thinks they do not hear her
But they do
They hear her and they adore her

She speaks to them of
things that they love
Of belly rubs and little mice squeaks

She tells them of tails
of the faraway
And time stands still, if only for that moment

Then she stops whispering
As there is nothing left to be said
And all is quiet.