Luke

In memory of Luke, the watcher from the green,
A grey tabby feral, in the bushes she was seen.
On a little hill near a road she made her stand,
A silent guardian of this humble land.

With eyes like dusk, she’d eagerly await,
For feeders’ footsteps, she knew their gait.
Hidden in the foliage, yet always near,
In her silent watch, she held us dear.

Though untamed and wild, she knew our hearts,
In her world of green, she played her parts.
Happily watching, from her leafy veil,
A quiet presence, a whispered tale.

But today, the road claimed a life so bright,
Silencing the watcher who guarded the night.
Luke, the grey tabby, whose spirit was free,
Now journeys beyond where we cannot see.

Yet, in the rustle of leaves, her memory stays,
In the whispering wind, we hear her silent gaze.
For Luke was more than a shadow in the bush,
She was a reminder of life’s tender hush.

So here’s to Luke, who watched and knew,
In the heart of the green, her spirit flew.
Though taken too soon by a fate so stark,
Her memory lingers in the green, in the dark.

Farewell, dear Luke, your watch has ended here,
But in our hearts, we’ll keep you near.
A tribute to a life, wild and free,
On a little hill, where she loved to be.