cats

The Cats

the cats they are conspiring
among themselves at half past three
and in the dark I sense them coming
to wake me momentarily
the cats need no alarm clock
nor call of cocking crow
just the sense of breakfast time
is all they need to know
so in a daze they rouse me
and over them in careful gait
I stumble, tumble into the day
with cats one’s never late
and now the cats conspire again
this time they must decide
do I deserve their gratitude
or should they run and hide
now that they’re fed and watered
of my company they tire
in peeps and meeps to corners dark
they skip, and they conspire.

Black Cat

a piece of night cut from the dark
she watches each and every move
and sits aloof so far apart
from the world, until she soothes
my tired thoughts with just a glance
her green eyes holding fix on mine
and leads my thoughts a merry dance
with her wiles and ways feline
she is both queen and courtesan
her nature fierce and fair
she knows me more than any can
and less than any care…