Decked out in golden earrings, they sat on ornate mats,
With proud disdain, their haughty glance is still preserved in stone,
There's little doubt about it - they made the world their own.
Today we're far more civilised - we laugh at ancient folly,
Our cats are pets, they have their place, they keep down pests, they're jolly,
But have you ever tried to keep the softest, warmest chair?
Don't you find, unfailingly, your tabby's sleeping there>
And when you're pushed for shopping and his food is hard to find,
Have you ever known him settle for a poorer, cheaper kind?
When he decides he wants to roam, regardless of your flowers,
Can you make him use the paths and teach him 'those are ours'?
He'll go his way, he won't be ruled, the old adage rings true,
YOU may think 'I own a cat', the truth is - HE OWNS YOU!
feline poetry
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