Rats!
She's cleaning her whiskers
And tending her fur,
The full-blown ablutions
Important to her,
She's only inside
When it comes on to rain,
For she detests water
From gutter or drain!
She waits for the sun
To dip down out of view,
The stars to come out
And the breeze to blow through,
Then stalks through the garden
Head raised like a Queen,
And listens to rustles
From dartings unseen!
She looks with disdain
When I beckon to her,
And only runs in
For the dish by the chair,
But brings me a present
At dawn's early light,
A rat with no head or
A pigeon in flight!
She clambers through bushes
And climbs all the trees,
Looks down at we humans
And does as she please,
There's no little creature
Immune from her front,
Her bell tinkles warnings,
The cat's gone to hunt!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
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