Thursday, February 24, 2011

Cat (A Poem)

Swift through the trees,
Silent on the breeze.
Sneaking through the night,
Snapping prey without a fight.

Thus trods the cat,
Mighty hunter,
No doubt of that.

Cautious in the night,
Creeping into sight.
Curling under a bush,
Crawling home with a swush.

Thus prowls the cat,
Suspicious friend,
Now what of that.

Meowing at the door,
Munching on the floor.
Making you a slave,
Meat, they crave

Thus purrs the cat,
Friendly companion,
Who'd think of that?

No comments:

Post a Comment