I have a king size recliner,
For the comfort of my plush derrière.
Yet I remain on the edge of the seat,
For Sammy is sleeping back there.
When Sammy gets into the catnip,
Her entire mental outlook tilts.
She’s running up and down the stairs,
Resembling a hyper-crazed weasel on stilts.
Summer is really, truly over,
I put plastic over the window.
To keep herself even warmer,
Sammy snuggled down into my elbow.
“Your poems have gotten too gloomy,
It’s better when you are funny.”
Giving the public what they want,
Something, something fluffy bunny.
The seasons are finally changing,
And it’s not just in my head.
The nights are definitely colder because,
I found a kitty in my bed.
People come, people go,
And time keeps slipping by.
Only reason I’m still around,
Is for fresh blueberry pie.
Life isn’t easy,
Life isn’t fair.
Why won’t Dad let me,
Kick him out of his chair?
Something has stirred Sammy’s primal force,
She’s cool, but deadly like James Bond in Prague.
What can I do to soothe this most savage of beasts,
Maybe go to the park and get her a Chicago Dog?