A poem can always touch your heart, make you laugh, make you cry.
These poems are some of my favorites.
Thanks to the authors of these wonderful poems.
Sandpaper kisses on a cheek or a chin . That is the way for a day to begin!
Sandpaper kisses -A cuddle, a purr. I have an alarm clock that's covered with fur.
By: Mehbooba Poems and Poetry
Cats Sleep Anywhere
Cats sleep anywhere, any table, any chair. Top of piano, window-ledge, in the middle, on the edge. Open drawer, empty shoe, anybody's lap will do. Fitted in a cardboard box, in the cupboard with your frocks. Anywhere! They don't care! Cats sleep anywhere.
Eleanor Farjeon (1881 - 1965)
St. Jerome's Cat
St. Jerome in his study kept a great big cat, it's always in his pictures, with its feet upon the mat. Did he give it milk to drink, in a little dish? When it came to Friday's, did he give it fish? If I lost my little cat, I'd be sad without it; I should ask St. Jerome what to do about it. I should ask St. Jerome, just because of that, for he's the only saint I know who kept a kitty cat.
Anonymous
Training your human is a thankless task. "Why bother with it?" some kittens may ask. The fate of the world is the issue at hand, as felines worldwide stake a claim for their land. Make no bones about it, we cats own the joint. We spray in the corners to drive home the point. Some say the meek shall inherit the Earth. But they've no fangs or claws, for what that's worth. The cat is the ultimate species, you see. We're poised to usurp man's authority. These silly old humans who cannot play nice! We cats are peaceful, we hate only mice. Just what does training your human entail? A host of fun things you must do without fail: The sofas and rugs need a little makeover. The La-Z-Boy's target for kitty takeover. Then sleep on clean towels placed in the guest bath. And make their best clothing a target of wrath. Tear down those new drapes with a quick forceful tug. Then tatter the pile of the new Berber rug. And when they are sleeping, you block off their nose, paw at their lower lip, chew on their toes. Strut on the mantle. If they give any flack, knock down their trophies and all bric-a-brac. Shed on mom's new velvet black evening gown, as she's headed out for a night on the town. If they leave you home all alone for the night,(Any human doing this can't be all that bright). They're telling you by leaving, it's perfectly all right, To totally redecorate 'til dawn's early light. Knock over tables and chew up the fern. Hurry, go faster! Soon, they'll return... When they try to punish, you mustn't show concern. (All attempts of discipline a pussycat should spurn.) A snide flick of tail will convey no remorse, but they will try harder to scold you, of course! So, hide in the closet until they forget, and then launch out just like an F-14 jet. Tear up their ankle, their forearm, their hand, then when they've had all the pain they can stand, dart from the room while they call 9-1-1,and celebrate victory. The felines have won! To humans, however, the battle's begun, as they steep in their anger and wish for a gun. Pathetic and lumbering and clumsy to boot, my friend, human dominance is really a hoot. Take charge in your home. It's destiny, meow. (The verses above have already told how.) So sleep for an hour, and then grab some chow. And then train your human, beginning right now.
Author UnknownI think these poems catch the character and delight of owning a cat.
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