Bailey

A sonnet for my cat who I miss dearly.

Black tipped triangles await the sound of an engine;
The signal of my return home.
White socked paws greet me in play,
Trying to catch the mysterious light.
Teal orbs, like mine,
Filled with abandonment.
Ebony tail twitching in agitation
As I tickle your back pink pads.
Rose-tinted sandpaper kiss my hands
Erasing all traces of stress.
Your baileys and cream colour coat
And your grey tabby face,
Laying lazily across me
The first and last thing I see.