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.

Christopher Villiers


Originally published at rhymestersrevels.wordpress.com on January 12, 2018.