-- Submitted by Richard Call from Longwood, FL

We've got other things to do,
don't you agree? Oh! I do,
and he's nothing but trouble,
So, who for him would lose that ruble?

But, you're' all scientists!
you know the value of the neutron
and that of a gene. Nature you know
can be sweet or mean, how then,
do you underestimate the value of him?

He's part of nature. He was happy,
and we've damaged his home.
He's part of nature. He was happy,
and we've chewed on him,
right down to his bone.
Now don't you see nature torn?

She will repair and in doing so,
for us she won't care,
For fear of nature at least, give him a day,
then you'll see our survival ensured,
in a grand, grand way!

-- Submitted by Abhishek Nayak from Bangalore, Karnataka, India

Dane Street's queen
is on her throne
She much prefers
it on her own
Unless of course
you've come to rub
Or brush, or coo,
or offer grub

Then Blanche unleashes
all her charms
And twirls and curls
and so disarms
Whoever's offering
the goods
That we forget
her many moods:

The early hisses
swipes and scratches
Head-butts, nips,
white fur in patches
Bunny-hopping
down the stairs
The spirit-cat
of icy glares

Regurgitations
catch off guard
And mediations
can come hard
But would we shed
our cat of snow?
Not for a million
Heavens, no!

-- Submitted by Kathleen Mortensen from Kitchener, Ontario, Canada

The dog goes for a bite
and hits the door
The cat meows
and scurries down the floor

A horrendous fight
not for eyes to see
The dog's on the ground
the cat's in the tree

The cat fakes peace
and before you know
The cat makes a jump
and the dog's ready to go

They both wind up
with cuts and bruises
But who's the winner
Neither loses

A tie it is
a tie it must be
So that is why
this goes on for eternity

-- Submitted by Maria from Peachtree City, GA

Her eyes are like diamonds that are shiny and bright
Her hair is so soft and black as the night
Her legs are long and her body is slender
When you hold her close she is warm and tender

Hiding amongst the shadows so tall
Looking much closer she's not there at all
Always in trouble with her curious way
She stays out all night and sleeps in all day

Creeps into your room and sits up on your bed
Gives gentle kisses on your nose and your head
Always expects you to open the door
There isn't a sound as she walks on the floor

She will not come over when you call
Walks straight past as if you're not there at all
If you want to work she wants to play
Doesn't care if you forget her birthday

Is she your wife or is she your lover
Is she a friend or is she your mother
She is none of those things I can tell you that
This beautiful creature is only the cat

-- Submitted by Virginia Gronow from Australia

 I saw your form, dear dying cat
On a winter's night unsnowing
Lying there across my path.
I rushed from my car unknowing
Of when you'd met with the fatal blow
That left you lying still.
Whether 'twas swift or painfully slow,
Your dying took not your will
For crouching beside you, I saw you respire
And chose to pick you up.
I desperately hoped you wouldn't expire
As your head I did gently cup.

 I searched for one who would surely miss
Affections you must have shown,
And I felt somehow I'd be remiss
To let you die alone.
So door to door I nearly ran,
But nobody gave a care.
Your eyes I frequently would scan
To see the light still there.
But then as I was cradling you,
You breathed your final breath.
I sensed your soul release. It flew,
And I was holding death.

 Oh, could you tell, dear dying cat,
Before your soul did pass,
I cared? I quietly grieved, and with that,
I placed your corpse on the grass.

 -- Submitted by Andrea Dietrich from Pleasant Grove, Utah

I see you've found your wings today...
Maybe the kitchen floor is slippery,
my little pitter patter critter.
Maybe you'll end up doing the splits
while crawling into the kittie litter;
Maybe you will learn
what it means when I say no
and shake my finger so...
My little pitter patter critter.

-- Submitted by Michelle Sdrakas from Vancouver, BC, Canada

Basking in the glow of the golden globe that sits above the world,
he enjoys each minute of this day, and allows himself to purr.
He lays stretched out without a single solitary care,
and only relies on what he knows, which is that his food and owner
(his most prized possessions) will surely be there.

For him, his gray fur and his emerald green eyes only make up a cat,
and his life is so much simpler then mine.
For all he has to do is lay and stare at the sky,
and all he ever has to think about is me, myself, and I.

-- Submitted by Andrea Green from Aurora, CO