Genres: Funny; Religion; Cats
Description; Suggested by a poem called “Pangur Bán” found in the margins of a manuscript and written around the ninth century by an unknown Irish monk.
Golden Legend by Richard Van Holst
I used to like the noise
and stalk his stirring quill
and he would smile, until
the day I stepped in ink
and pattered golden foot-
prints down his page. And then
my monk was cross and grabbed
me with harsh hands. But soon
he took a rag and wiped
my yellowed paws—he said
it looked as if I’d fished
for sun‘s last light in pools
at vespers. Then he stroked
my fur with kinder touch.
He kept me a long time
from climbing on his desk,
but now we both have learned
our passions to restrain.
Now I am much more calm,
wise in the ways of words,
content to watch him scratch
with merest twitch of tail.
I sleep when I get bored.
Then I get up and stretch
and wander off to see
what Brother Cook has in
the pot. Mayhap there’ll be
a bit of Friday fare.
Of course I take good care
then not to get too close
for Cook, he kicks sometimes.
But I am swift to dodge!
He got me only once
and then the Abbot frowned
and made him read to me
out of a gilt-edged tome.
It was about a monk
who preached to all the birds
portrayed in vivid hues—
you’d swear those fowls could fly
but there they stayed to hear
as still as roosting hens.
Oh how I wish I’d been
to hear that holy man,
for such a homily
would much improve my soul.
But soft! There goes a mouse!
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