George lands on my head as I lie here in bed.
His claws need trimming for certain.
I toss a pillow as he nips at my elbow.
Soon he’ll be climbing the curtain.
I’d risen before at quarter to four
Commotion assailing my brain.
He’d got in a race, he’d chased sister Gracie
My sweet dreams aswirl down the drain.
Now I might as well rise with sleep in my eyes.
Is that shiny object the sun?
The cats plan to nap when I give them my lap.
Contented, their work here is done.
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6 comments:
I like your poem, so does Maggie. She's more like a cat than a dog, and she likes cats better than dogs. Anyway, as a former cat owner I identified with your words. Thanks for sharing.
It's after nights like that, my husband rousts the cats every time he catches them sleeping. lol
Marian Allen
Fantasies, mysteries, comedies, recipes
Haha! What a fun poem. I enjoyed it!
You just described our cats!
We used to have cats and I can totally relate to their sharp claws. They can dig deep and really hurt, especially when spooked out of a deep sleep.
Cats are borderline evil...
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