cat Archives - Spillwords

Game of Claws

Elke MargarettaMay 25, 2020

Game of Claws written by: Elke Margaretta “Good morning, sir.” Mitzi sashays into the room and drops onto her haunches to knead my aching shoulder. ...

EnglishLiterature2 min read

Karma Reward

M J ChristieApril 12, 2020

Karma Reward written by: M J Christie I always thought the idea of a black cat being lucky was a misnomer. I encountered ‘Lucky’ three days ago. She w...

EnglishLiterature6 min read

Alpha Male

R.C. MorganApril 8, 2020

Alpha Male written by: R.C. Morgan “Are you ready for breakfast? Toast, cereal…?” Pete’s voice called. My ears pricked up. I was always hungry. But...

EnglishLiterature2 min read

Marmalade Cat

Angel EdwardsFebruary 4, 2020

Marmalade Cat written by: Angel Edwards fat old marmalade cat with golden eyes slinks through silky black night hallways fur on his back slowly sta...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

An Old Life

SpillwordsJanuary 12, 2020

An Old Life a poem by: Donald Hall Snow fell in the night. At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish mounded softness where the Honda was. Cat fed and c...

EnglishLiterary GreatsPoetry0 min read

Sleigh Bells Ringing

Eamon O'LearyDecember 15, 2019

Sleigh Bells Ringing written by: Eamon O'Leary Marjorie heard the scream and dropping the tea cloth, raced into the living room. Jamie stood there w...

ChristmasEnglishLiterature3 min read

Early Risers

JeanmbbDecember 4, 2019

early risers written by: Jeanmbb @jmbsquared we’ve joined the world of the early risers the cat & i- hot coffee with summer’s crickets ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Mischief on Hallow’s Eve

ReBecca DeFazioOctober 31, 2019

Mischief on Hallow's Eve written by: ReBecca DeFazio @MisplacedPetals We’re not afraid of the dark, of ghosts or goblins. We run through the w...

EnglishHalloweenPoetry0 min read

The Dark Kitty

Edward DonnellyOctober 29, 2019

The Dark Kitty written by: Edward Donnelly @odetoapoet Under a crescent moon a dark cat walked along a sidewalk, brazenly while chittering. The d...

EnglishHalloweenPoetry0 min read

Down Through The Ages

Susi BocksOctober 20, 2019

Down Through The Ages written by: Susi Bocks @susibocks from the ancient Celtic ritual the festival of Samhain replete with bonfires and costume...

EnglishHalloweenPoetry0 min read

Tigger

Phyllis SouzaSeptember 10, 2019

Tigger written by: Phyllis Souza Tigger, an alley cat, lapped milk, hunted mice and leaped through open car windows to nap. One day he picked the wr...

EnglishLiterature0 min read

Missy The Cat’s Diary, Sunday 10th of March 2019

Andrew ScobieAugust 1, 2019

Missy The Cat’s Diary Sunday 10th of March 2019 written by: Andrew Scobie 6.30am: By standing immediately in front of his head and breathing h...

EnglishLiterature5 min read

The Blacking Out Of Tiffany

Nathan SpicerJuly 21, 2019

The Blacking Out Of Tiffany written by: Nathan Spicer @spicern I didn’t know how to make Tiffany care about me. I didn’t know how to make it seem l...

EnglishLiterature5 min read

I Burped In His Face

Robyn MacKinnonJuly 21, 2019

I Burped In His Face written by: Robyn MacKinnon @art_rat cat kept me awake I was in the kitchen and I burped in his face ...

EnglishPoetryRobyn Finds PoetryRobyn MacKinnon0 min read

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...