Motley

Motley our torti queen.
Loved by all, and rarely seen.
Watcher of the gate and street,
Silent paws on careful feet.

Amber eyes that weighed the night,
Flecked with gold and hidden light.
You would linger, half in shade,
Half in trust that slowly stayed.

We learned to wait and move so slow,
Let gentle greetings come and go.
A quiet nod, a cautious stare,
Became your way to say you care.

The world goes on with traffic sound,
Yet something sacred left this ground.
An empty patch of tar and stone
Marks the place you called your own.

Sleep softly now, dear torti queen,
Where fields are safe and always green.
Loved by all and still unseen,
Except in hearts where you reign serene.