CATTITUDE
They gave me a name, Matilda, from a book by Roald Dahl,
I can be soft and gentle, but sometimes hiss and snarl,
I like tinned tuna in spring water, prawns are quite nice too,
Mussels are quite tasty, but human toes, those I love to chew.
When I journey out at night time, I carefully do my rounds,
Through gardens and over fences, listening for the sounds,
I sometimes crawl under garden sheds, seeking rats and mice,
In summertime I catch a few, this is my share of paradise.
All the evenings’ activity, well, it takes its toll you know,
As with age I am sure you’ll agree, one simply has to go,
So I find a spot for my toilet, (the neighbour’s new dug border,)
When I’m done I cover it up, I have some semblance of order.
I cannot eat just anything; I’m pedigree and hate tinned food,
I detest kitty carriers; car journeys give me an attitude,
The thing I really hate the most, sure it will make you laugh,
I’m really clean and I don’t smell, but the thing I hate is a bath.
When I want you for something nice, I snuggle, meow and purr,
Then you lift me up to cuddle me and gently stroke my fur,
For I am not always allowed in here, in this comfy chair,
I should know by now when the noise begins, you want me out of there.
Hey! What do you think you’re doing, speaking to me like that?
(You know I cannot answer you, I’m only a little cat.)
Here again with the vacuum cleaner, OK I’ll move away,
You don’t need to prod me with it, you only have to say.
I’m going now, out on the prowl, to find a bird to share,
When I get back I’d like you to know I’m sitting in that chair!
I am ten years old, I need the rest, so leave me well alone,
And by the way, it wasn’t me, I haven’t seen your phone!
By
JOHN HAMPSON
© Copyright Reserved 2009
They gave me a name, Matilda, from a book by Roald Dahl,
I can be soft and gentle, but sometimes hiss and snarl,
I like tinned tuna in spring water, prawns are quite nice too,
Mussels are quite tasty, but human toes, those I love to chew.
When I journey out at night time, I carefully do my rounds,
Through gardens and over fences, listening for the sounds,
I sometimes crawl under garden sheds, seeking rats and mice,
In summertime I catch a few, this is my share of paradise.
All the evenings’ activity, well, it takes its toll you know,
As with age I am sure you’ll agree, one simply has to go,
So I find a spot for my toilet, (the neighbour’s new dug border,)
When I’m done I cover it up, I have some semblance of order.
I cannot eat just anything; I’m pedigree and hate tinned food,
I detest kitty carriers; car journeys give me an attitude,
The thing I really hate the most, sure it will make you laugh,
I’m really clean and I don’t smell, but the thing I hate is a bath.
When I want you for something nice, I snuggle, meow and purr,
Then you lift me up to cuddle me and gently stroke my fur,
For I am not always allowed in here, in this comfy chair,
I should know by now when the noise begins, you want me out of there.
Hey! What do you think you’re doing, speaking to me like that?
(You know I cannot answer you, I’m only a little cat.)
Here again with the vacuum cleaner, OK I’ll move away,
You don’t need to prod me with it, you only have to say.
I’m going now, out on the prowl, to find a bird to share,
When I get back I’d like you to know I’m sitting in that chair!
I am ten years old, I need the rest, so leave me well alone,
And by the way, it wasn’t me, I haven’t seen your phone!
By
JOHN HAMPSON
© Copyright Reserved 2009
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