Poem Hunter
My Little Leopardess
(25 April 1854 – 3 November 1926 / Ontario)

My Little Leopardess

Lissom as a lily fragrant as an herb ;

Darling, golden little one, thou art superb !

Cool as is the day-break passionate as the noon :

As fixed as any star as changeful as the moon ;

Your voice is full of music, springing, note by note,

From out the sweet song-tower of your snowy throat.

Your fingers are the petals that shade your soft pink


The hand that fills my universe with either storm or calm ;
And Love has digged a pit for me and flung my fond

heart in

It does not wish escape from out that dimple in your chin.
Your lashes cast their shadows upon a cheek I prize,
To hide love's rare pond lilies afloat within your eyes.

You 're full of sweet caprices ; but I love you for your

faults :
To yield a swift forgiveness my loyal heart ne'er halts.

I know you 're not an angel hush ! let me press that


Arid whisper : If an angel you 'd tire me in a week !
When I am with yon, darling 't will do me good to tell
I 'm very near to heaven and mighty close to hell.

And that 's what makes you precious, my little gem un-
priced ;

Like Judith, you would knife a man : like Mary follow

Ah ! I can almost feel your claws in every soft caress ;

But still I love I worship thee : thou little Leopardess !

I lay my hand, unshaking, upon your tawny mane,

And welcome all the joy you bring, nor murmur at the

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Comments (1)

interesting way of writing in this one, your poetry is uneque.