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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