The Cat Poem by Charlotte Ballard
The Cat
He lingers near the edge with spotted paws;
Near the ceiling, standing tall,
He surveys the land beneath, ruler over all.
Rumbling growls with a whirl and tread,
The lingering scent of meat long dead.
The king, uncrowned, becomes well fed.
I've got a king, a queen, and a princess at home and I beckon to their every need. Good stuff and welcome aboard. Kenneth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/7/2024 8:33:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A nice, well thought out poem. I love cats too. You described it beautifully. Kindest Regards, Irene