A short nap,
five hours gone by
and I awake to noise
and slowly I try
to see just what,
what’s happening here
as I approach with caution
these boxes I fear.
What is this clutter
affixed to my floor?
Why are you packing?
I want answers, I implore.
Have you gone mad
or is this a dream?
Just don’t pack my things
as part of your scheme.
Now, if you’ll keep it down,
I will get back to sleep
so no more commotion,
I don’t want to hear a peep!
A holiday? What do you mean?
A cat’s work is never done.
Take it easy, relax a bit.
This cat’s too busy
to relax and sit.
I am always busy
from morn ’til night
and my work is plenty,
you can bet your life.
There’s no time to stop
as I’m always on the go
but I guess one 20-hour nap
could be allowed though.
You think I can’t hear you
just because my eyes are closed;
but every word you say,
lands on my ears exposed.
You lower your voice,
as if that changes a thing;
but a cat can hear the softest tune
that only the wind can sing.
That twitching of my whiskers
isn’t the result of a sweet dream;
any fool must know the sign
of when a cat’s working on a scheme.
Go away, can’t you see?
Here I sleep,
leave me be.
Go away, hurry now.
I need you not,
this I vow.
Go away, be a dear.
If I need you,
I’ll call you here.
Go away, I don’t have time.
Your high pitched voice
should be a crime.
Go away, and don’t come back,
unless you have a fish
I might cut you some slack.
If it were up to me,
I would sleep from morn
to night
and I wouldn’t even wake
until there were no
more light.
I’d roll right out of bed
and saunter on over
to my dish
and wait so impatiently
as you prepare my
yummy fish.
But the world is not purrfect
and this fantasy just
cannot be
since in reality you are sleeping
when you should be
feeding me.
Sometimes I think I was wrong
to choose a family lacking riches.
How’s a cat to live properly
with access to so few fishes?
But then there are times
when I know I chose just right
like when it is oh so cold
and I cuddle with my girl all night.
But still I think it would be better
to find someone with wealth
since they could afford some heat
which is better for my health.
But then I hear that bag shake
and I am right where I should be,
waiting for my fish to eat
with my chosen family.
It’s not that I hate you,
I just don’t really like you.
However,
if there were anyone I could love
other than myself
you would be a close second
to the squirrel.
Now that the mushy stuff
is out of the way,
how about we discuss
something slightly more important.
Where’s my fish?
You search high and low
and turn on every light.
You search all day
and well into the night.
You ask me again
if I know where it is
but I am busy napping
and have no time for a quiz.
It’s my toy your looking for
and I just don’t care,
but you look all you like
since it’s hidden in my hair.
It’s not easy being furry
when the weather
just won’t change,
the heat won’t go away
and still my winter fur grows,
it’s strange.
Mother nature doesn’t know
what it’s like to be a cat
with a coat you can’t remove
when the temperature is hot.
Then the next day it’s so cold
and my coat is not enough.
Pass me a blanket,
this weather thing is tough.
I sit, I watch, I wait.
You stare, you eat, you scurry.
I crouch, I tense, I wait.
You groom, you wonder, you worry.
I pounce, you run.
I chase, it’s fun.
You hide, I wait,
not on time, but on fate.
Autumn Siders 