The Green Wet Floor

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The Green Wet Floor

She woke, put her feet on the green wet floor,
she stood, went to the chair, put on her gown.
Across the puddles through the dank to the door,
through the green door, over the wet floor; sad frown,

She stood went to the chair put on her gown,
through the green door down the green hall, downstairs,
into the hall, past the, blue door. No sound.
The cat, black and moulting, every where, leaves hairs.

Across the puddles, through the dank to the door
through the green door past the black cat, leaves hairs.
Down stairs and a cuppa sits on the floor,
on the green wet floor, through the green door, down stairs.

Through the green door, over the wet floor, sad frown,
she stood, went to the chair put on her gown.

The Slinky Cat

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The Slinky Cat

You sit on the window
sill statuesque behind the
closed curtain.

When the sun shines
I can see your ominous
shadow on the fabric.

When the sun goes behind
a cloud you disappear,
magically.

But I know you’re still
there watching me, to
see if I make a false move.

Then the sun again, and you
won’t let me forget you.
Like a bad penny.

In Praise of Cats

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In Praise of Cats

I like cats. Cats are nice. They
don’t answer back. They are
cuddly and don’t have plans
to dominate the world.
I like cats.

I like cats. Cats are calm. They
know what’s important. They don’t
care about sales forecasts or
tax deadlines.
I like cats.

I like cats. They don’t have
hidden agendas. Their philosophy
is ‘live and let live’.  Except if you’re
a mouse of course.
I like cats.

I like cats. They aren’t high
maintenance. They aren’t
always full on. You can be
yourself with cats.
I like cats.