The cat
on the hat
The cat sits
on his master’s hat,
And slowly
gazes round;
This place
is better than a mat
And high
above the hound.
His claws
are sheathed in velvet paws,
With eyes
half-closed, he naps;
Twitching
his tail, he gently snores,
Dreaming of
mice, perhaps.
Alas! Alack!
His brother’s back,
Time to
vacate the cap,
Anything to
avoid the whack
Of a less
than friendly tap.
