My cat the worm
Is orange and white
He likes to squirm
And roll all night
He’s furry not slimy
Like worms would be
He likes to squirm
On the floor for me
His feet and his belly
Up in the air
He worms and wiggles
Without a care
He purrs so loudly
As he rolls about
He’s my cat the worm
Now shh, he’s passed out
July 1,2015
By Cindy Howard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem