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!
- 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!