d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Make some room
http://dversepoets.com
The Old Cat
The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he claims a spot til it’s no longer new.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,
a sunny nook to warm his weary bones –
a padded window seat will surely do
The old cat has no room he calls his own.
Somedays a mournful yeowl he does intone,
when favorite blankets have been left askew.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,
preferring quietness, to be alone
to ponder catching flies and mice and shrews.
The old cat has no room he calls his own –
he owns it all, each board and stepping stone.
His humble servants also know it’s true.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,
a cardboard box that he can get into
and fall asleep, curled up and unbeknown.
The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he wanders round the space seeking a throne.
