The Magnolia Jungle
Indoor cats grow fat
About the flat,
From all their lack of pace –
They spend all morning sat
Upon the mat,
Just cleaning fur and face.
Then mooch-in for a chat,
Or stroke and pat,
As though they own the place –
And sleep upon a hat,
Or idly bat
The drapes with easy grace,
They’ve got it far too soft and easy,
Never getting cold or sneezy,
Staring out the windows, queasy,
At the thought of empty space.
Hiding from the wet and breezy,
Doing as they damn well pleasy
Till they’re corpulent and wheezy,
Hiding in their cushy base.
Indoor cats grow fat,
Without a rat,
To give them cause to chase –
But they don’t care for that,
They run this flat –
Or prowl, in any case…
Rhyming Couplets 