To A Cat
The big fat cat
is sitting on the mat.
Sitting by the fire
no feline time for hire.
No cares today
no master in any way.
In a warm well lit room
every comfort always groomed.
Do not spin or sow
no difficult path to hoe.
So evolved will not try
so will never peach verdant sky.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

No comments until now.