It is not often I write a poem which is a little funny, so this is a first.

Here I lay curled up in a ball

with the fire warming me like toast,

I am just a lazy old thing

and everyone’s purrrrrfect host.

O’h what a life to be a cat

to be waited upon every day,

so I can snuggle up

like a lazy old moggy;

That is, until I decide I would rather go play.

Now some times I may fancy

chasing some string,

or I may catch a mouse to tease.

I may catch a bird, spider or fly -

I’m a cat!

So I’ll do as I please

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