Cats – ALWAYS – Sit Up Front!

My night sky cat by the window sat

Black coat reflected the moon

His tail swung side to side, as I watched him wide eyed

And stated ‘You belong on the back of a broom!’

My night sky cat then turned and spat

And stood tall upon the ledge

For the worst kind of curse, is a cat that is nervous

And my comment had put him on edge

My night sky cat resettled and sat

With a satisfied look and a twitch

How dare I assume, that by moon on a broom

He would take the BACKSEAT for a witch!

Sioban Timmer

• Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #22

Sioban says: This prompt made me think of magic – how can a black cat and a night sky not make you think of magic?

I tried to mix up the rhythm a little bit to make the poem more interesting and get a more challenging rhyme!