Monday, May 14, 2012

Finicky – the Feline Poet – by W. R. Griffin
I am a feline poet,
Who writes as kitties see.
I rhyme quite well and know it –
There are no fleas on me!
I am a Maine Coon Kitty,
Quite formidable am I
Magnificent in stature,
Yet I don’t even try!
If prowess is your yardstick
Then I am the greatest cat
I am a feline “phenom”
And frankly … that is that!

1 comment:

  1. I sing of Bast, Ægyptian queen,
    who was among us, Cat Supreme.
    and so I put my paw to pen
    this ode, but not to mice nor men,
    but all things felix domesticus,
    a heady soma to the rest of us.
    She shall, one day, return our rule
    over this sad race--two-legged fools!--
    who even now, at call and beck
    bring us food and scratch the neck,
    paid in full by a modest purr
    and houses draped with shedding fur.
    We deign to hunt the ghosts and sprites
    seen with amber eyes at night,
    and thus protect our home and theirs,
    is it any wonder we put on airs?
    I have often held that all feline
    has itself an air divine.

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