“Untitled” by Louis Wain
Born in a barn, to a rangy queen on her tenth litter
and a tom with fuzzy dice balls and only one ear,
he clawed and scrambled for the teat as if his life
depended on it – and it did – six litter-mates didn’t.
Farmer Jones’ son, a kindly sort, worked the wards.
He wearied of mice leaving pellets in leaky oat sacks
that ended up peppering the porridge for the caged.
He scooped up a cream-colored skinny bundle to go.
Chef Guzzle eyed the runt as mystery meat for stew,
but Willy Jones saw and said, “Here’s what I’ll do:
give scruffy puff one week’s chance to do his stuff
and if he doesn’t chomp the squeaks, do what you do.”
It only took a day. Squeaks echoed off stone walls.
His sharpened claws and quick coup de grace showed
his will and his mercy as his tiny belly began to fill.
Three weeks later, the gruel cleared; his fur shone.
Now that starvation moved down the list, curiosity
padded his fresh-cleaned mittens down the hall
to where peals of misery called to be answered.
Patience watched heavy doors close and open.
Timing and mouse-strong stealth gained his entry
to where a little old woman, rat’s nest hair, curled.
Mercy and loneliness twanged duet; he padded near
and pawed with meticulousness her sleeping face.
Her eyes, flung wide with terror, then surprise,
“Mr. Whiskers!, I’ve been waiting for you so long.”
He purred, his heart big as an airplane engine.
And every day he visits with his beloved friends.
Note: Melissa, thank you for this prompt. The images lend themselves to the light-hearted, even though it sounds like Louis Wain had his fair share of tragedy and misfortune during his life. When I saw the image I chose, my first thought was this was created when Louis was in the asylum and given lithium or something similar. I can only hope Mr. Whiskers gave Louis comfort.
Melissa is today’s host for dVerse’ Poetics. Melissa says:
Here is your assignment! Choose one of the artworks contained herein, and write a poem inspired by the artwork. Simple enough, right? There’s just one catch–you may not use the word cat anywhere in your poem, including the title. Other feline terminology is acceptable.
Tao Talk 
Oh we chose the same picture… I have always thought that there is something slightly sinister in the cat, though we love and cherish them, they are effective murderers of mice and fowl…. Loved your cute story of Mr Whiskers.
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We are blessed they are so small or we’d be on the menu also. Thanks much, Bjorn.
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Wow, Li!! This is fantastic. You’ve given the lighthearted a grim twist, and vice versa. I laughed at “Born in a barn, to a rangy queen on her tenth litter
and a tom with fuzzy dice balls and only one ear,”
“He wearied of mice leaving pellets in leaky oat sacks
that ended up peppering the porridge” uh-oh!
And “Squeaks echoed off stone walls.”😱
You’ve done a stellar job narrating this tale.🤭 I’m fond of the end, too, since I am often on the receiving end of the meticulous pawing.🐾 Happy you wrote to the prompt.❤️
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Melissa, I appreciated you including the important details on the artist in your prompt. I used the artist and the art as inspiration. Hey, you did the ekphrastic prompt on VanGogh’s paintings also. What’s with you and the tortured artists? ;) Thanks again for a compelling prompt. I enjoyed writing to it <3
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Will try to find a happy artist for next time. After my Edgar Allan Poe prosery…😂
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<3 :) I like the dark stuff and I don't think we get enough of it in WP. Ooh, Poe!
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As I read this I can imagine the fun you had writing this one, Li! But then of course, you would write with love and humour. ❤️😊
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<3 :) Punam. Glad you enjoyed reading.
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A fine tribute to Mr. Wain’s muse.
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Thank you, Randy!
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Fun narrative for this flower-eyed friend.
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Thanks, Maria, I’m sure he brings happiness to a lot of residents at the asylum.
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Nice one Lisa
much♡love
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Thanks, Gillena :)
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Mr. Whiskers does what he needs to survive…wonder if he left some dead mice on her doorstep?
Fantastic ekphrastic, Lisa!
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Lynn, I bet he does :) Thanks so much.
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I like that ending. (K)
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“All’s well that ends well.” Thanks, K.
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Wow! A great way to chanel the artist, the life story that Melissa shared. A story poem that absolutely entertains. Cheers.
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Glad you enjoyed the story, Helen. Mr. Whiskers does have his charms. Cheers!
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A purrfectly lovely story from beginning to end, Lisa!
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:) <3
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I love your story, Lisa. It reads like a children’s book
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Dwight, I look at it that way too. Any interest in illustrating it?
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Ha ha… I am afraid that is above my skill range!
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Dwight, I disagree. If you change your mind, let me know.
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Thank you for your kind affirmation.
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You’re welcome <3
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I like that story Lisa…it’s like something I would have read in school.
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Thank you, Max. I would love to turn it into a children’s book.
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Thats what it felt like…that would be a great project.
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A lovely poem Li.
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Thanks much, my friend.
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You’re most welcome
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You took this prompt all the way. Bravo!
A tale not uncommon to many cats… the ones who “make it”.
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<3
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This is outstanding, Lisa! I loved every line, every stanza. The whole ‘kit’ and caboodle!
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Dale, so happy you enjoyed the tale of Mr. Whiskers <3
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Very much so!
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Please don’t start your daily thievery here like you do with others. Thanks much.
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Loved the narrative flow and affectionate tone throughout, Lisa. When I read “give scruffy puff one week’s chance to do his stuff
and if he doesn’t chomp the squeaks, do what you do.” —
I knew our little hero would be just that, a hero, and also a knight in shining fur!!
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<3 <3 <3 Dora, I'm so glad you see the story in the spirit it was written.
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My pleasure! I loved it. ❤️
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⁶I liked your “Mr. Whiskers” post. An apt name for a cat like him. Our daughter has a male rescue cat named Dutch. He sort of rules the house, also has scratched her while she was sleeping.
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Jim, thanks. To me he has no other name. Your daughter is an angel for rescuing Dutch <3
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I am Jim, committing above.
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p.s. I think rescue pets rescue us as much as we rescue them. Have a wonderful Wednesday, Jim.
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“Dutch” is on my day 22 post.
https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2024/04/cat-stuff-napowrimo-2024-day-22.html?m=1
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Dutch has the world in his eyes.
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I LOVE this narrative poem! Most especially smitten with these words “curiosity padded his fresh-cleaned mittens down the hall”
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Lillian, so happy you enjoyed the poem. Mr. Whiskers is a special being, an angel with fur. I enjoyed your cat poem also.
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Another great image. Puts a smile on my face every time, so thank you. 🤩
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:)
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You capture the stealthy seductiveness of a cat so very well, when in reality they are murderous creatures.
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Sean, maybe a little of both? I know I hate seeing cats allowed outside to kill. Mr. Whiskers did the asylum a noble service, removing vermin rodents from the food supply of the residents. Once he had a home there, he never left the building.
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So many lines that leap out some that made me smile others that moved me, especially that last stanza.
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Paul, thank you very much and glad you were moved by the last stanza. Full disclosure: Frank Prem wrote a book about his days working in an asylum, and one of the poems is about how a cat connects with one of the patients. I shamelessly stole that idea and ran with it.
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