My Cat

a poem by

James Louis A

She walks with a majestic air,
Each step she puts with queenly care.
My house is her kingdom – beware;
No one shall to invade it dare!

She wears a purely golden crown.
A queen would have envied her gown,
Made of fresh, true, untreated fur,
Which she grooms every other hour.

With silence as her only bow
And every claw as an arrow,
She executes enemy rats
And frightens away rival cats.

Bright and wide are her melting eyes,
Her small face is so cute and nice.
But just because she cannot chat,
She’s not a human, but a cat!