This was written in the ancient times for a Live Journal writers group I briefly belonged to I believe the exercise was to write about the closest object.

Twelve hours on most days

We sit so close

Side by lonely side

Through seasons

We spend our quiet days

In communion

Soft colors hard edges

You spoke to me

Pictures and symbols

Are your language

Some times you cry out

But mostly purr

With gentle touches

Little gestures 

I try to reach you

Making contact

Together we work

Sole companions