Lola-isms

My Lola is gone, swept sweetly away-
An empty room where she used to play-
Deceitful silence, not of stealthy cat,
But of empty space where she once sat.
No paw pulls at the bottom of that door-
(The clever way she'd get to the first floor)
No more ambushes to startle or surprise,
Though never succeeding to mark our demise-
I'll miss her loud meowing at five a.m.-
And her mysterious eyes of yellow gem-
All that I have to remember her bye-
A blue night light and cat litter supply-
To see her again, I start to yearn,
By this, her blog, and Amy's return.