A mask of black upon his head,

A spotted black and darkened tail,

A lovely yellow eyes, he led

A life beyond the garden rail.

A handsome look, a steady gaze,

Beyond my door, he’d wait and wag,

To greet the morning’s golden haze,

Before the day began to lag.

Every Sundays when the house is ours,

He’d find his sofa, soft and deep,

To claim a territory of his own,

And dream away of day of sleep.

He’s break the mesh to find his way,

A thief within the night,

To wake me at the break of day,

With his He-lo every morning.

And if I dared to look away,

A tiny nip upon my toe,

I nagged and said, “Look what you did?”

A remorse look and a rolling belly he gave me.

I thought he wouldn’t go,

He vanished in the morning haze,

After he healed for three short days.

Where he is? I don’t know

I miss his “He-lo”and sweet gesture.

My Patchi , where are you?

© 2026 Eorie Faye.