The King Of The Stairs Poem by Jonathan Heads

He suddenly appears at the top,
satisfactory being simply cream
of the crop.

He is partial to peering down on his
subjects, while busily hurrying our
chores; happy with his contentment,
he; with his upright attention.

I am ironing my shirt at the bottom
of the stairs, dare I peer up to our
commander and cat with his fluffy
frame and regal stat, what would he do?
just turn his head to offer no clue.