Hunter Cat Poem by Maureen Pickford

Hunter Cat

Rating: 5.0


I could poke you with a big stick
But still you wouldn't wake
You're like a camel who stores sleep
Counting field mice instead of sheep.

One long day and a short summer's
Night; twenty four hours straight.
In the sunshine you stealth stalk then
Darkness cloaks as you lie in wait

We know you take it seriously
But do you have to crunch
Their poor, hapless bones so loudly?
(Hardly behaving politely) .

You cough up mice corpses
With their crunched heads.
They're a strange kind of litter
Amongst the flower beds.
But we love you dearly
Despite your crimes.
You own us both completely
And squint at us sometimes.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This poem is about our cat, Hershey Boy, who likes to burn the candle at both ends!
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Brian Jani 06 June 2014

Maureen i this ones good

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Dave Walker 07 August 2012

A great poem, like it, a great write.

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