Martin Howard Samuel Poet Rhyme

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Feline Foibles

I have a cat
(or a cat has me),
a furry cat, a very purry cat
when on my lap it's sat,
independent it is
(egotistical too),
yet demands attention
(self-centred through and through),
and when well-fed, its purr
(a four-stroke motor),
is full of condescension,
when behind its ears you scratch
(it's expected of you),
you may believe you heard,
“Meow, meow, meow,”
(sorry, here's the catch),
what it really said is,
“Me now, me now, ME now!”
And, as goldfish swims in bowl,
cat looks on with danger fraught,
thinking, 'So near yet so far,
that fish is food for thought.'

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