A heart-felt thanks to each and every one of you who submitted poems to my very first ever Nora Purr-etry Contest 2010. They were all so wonderful that picking the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners in the various categories was difficult to say the least. I’m glad I gave that job to my personal assistants, Betsy, Burnell and Allie.
And the winners are…
In the adult category, 19 + up for best rhyming poem:
First place goes to Sarah L. Gordon for
In Praise of the Piano Cat.
Roll over Beethoven! Poor Mozart watch out!
The scope of your greatness has been called into doubt
by a newcomer to the world music scene…
A goddess, a tabby, a diva, a queen.
This pussycat prodigy takes to the floor,
gleaming of coat, and gifted of paw.
With pads, chin and whiskers she tickles the keys.
Crescendo. Adagio. All mastered with ease.
She wants no sheet music – the tune’s in her head.
No metronome needed – her tail taps instead.
Though she can’t reach the pedals she has reached the world,
this grey and gorgeous, glorious girl!
Second place goes to Juliet Staveley for
The Feline Phenomenon from Philly.
There’s a rather famous musician,
You simply can’t igNORA,
A bewitching bewhiskered Bartók,
Whose many fans adore her.
She has her own piano,
A Yamaha, if you please,
And happily plays for an audience,
By pawing (nearly) all the right keys
A silvery striped sensation,
She performs a great duet,
Or solo too, if that’s your thing,
How talented can you get?
Of course it’s a serious business,
She practices every day,
And follows greats like Betssorgsky,
Who inspire her to play.
Her favourites are G. Purrcini,
Depussy and Meozart,
The renditions are world famous,
She’s touched a million hearts.
And when her concerts are over,
She larks with best pal Max,
Or poses for manager Burnell,
Who takes her PR snaps.
It’s tough to be this gifted,
And stardom can be such a bore
But Nora, we simply implore ‘er,
Please tinkle forevermore!
We had a tie for Third place with Nora’s Gift by Karen Batesole and Nora’s Message by Rosemary Gilbert.
by Karen Batesole
The tinkling of piano keys
through the air
when no one
was around to play.
What could it be down there?
Downstairs there sat a Nora cat
and innocent, she played,
as little paws revealed her gift
through music she had made.
Expressions of her little soul
so touch us
with her art,
for music is the soul’s best way
into the heart.
by Rosemary Gilbert
When I was a kitten, I played on floors,
batted at anything hanging from doors.
I ran up the sofa-sides, cute and sweet,
tho’ the sofa soon looked like Shredded Wheat!
One day, when I was inspecting my claws,
I heard music inside my paws!
Also a tiny voice which said:
“Play the piano – don’t go to bed.”
That’s really how it all began,
to the piano-stool I ran.
Made myself comfy and
plunked on the keys.
Oh, the glory of it all!
Far more fun than tossing a ball.
Better still than watching fish
I’d been granted my dearest wish.
A humble tabby, my joy abounds
I now make lovely musical sounds.
Half of the world knows me by name
Soon, the Pussycat Hall of Fame!