Poem.

In the area of ​​Kill Devil Hills, four miles south of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, USA, this plane, flying four times on December 17, 1903.

There is something about a cat sleeping in the sun that elicits such serenity, relieving your stress and making your worries disappear. A dozing kitty, lounging luxuriously in a patch of sunlight, makes me smile. Featuring Maru from Japan.

The cutest sound you’ll ever hear.

What a beast I am not, or maybe as it was said of Spike Spiegel, a beast who has lost his fangs but that didn’t stop my hero from dropping a lot of bodies. Lion NOT Me… you know what happens to heroes but being a pussy “cat” I’m not safe either.

Men beware!

Cats can be vocal and have quite the vocal range, from cute chirps to mews to chattering, they want to be heard. They rarely meow at other adult cats, but will meow at their human owners, since we love to talk. But can they speak words? Judge for yourself.

Poor little kitty. Looking so silly. Supposed to be a limerick. Now I’m being silly. LOL.

London 1900’s.

A poem about my little cat, asleep on my couch.