THE POET LAURECAT by Christopher Villiers
I am the poet laurecat,
Meowing into verse
Odes to tuna, quaintly sat,
Purr rhythms to rehearse.
Some sonnets to my scratching post
A haiku for a ball
Some flea verse for my gracious host,
Spread out to one and all.
No publisher may want my trade,
I’m no Keats that’s for sure
But on warm laps you’ll find me laid
And here my works endure.
Originally published at rhymestersrevels.wordpress.com on January 12, 2018.