Written by Susan Lane SLCM Keeper of ColourMine
Cats: They always have a superior opinion of themselves and their standing within family life as you will see from this light-hearted poem about my own cat who thinks of himself as royalty.
Cats: Living with the Royals,
There they sit quite close to me One curled up in a window seat, The other on the 3-seater settee Both of them ignoring me It’s like they think they are above me In life’s simple hierarchy And that gives them permission To look down their noses at me They act like they are the king and queen In this establishment where they live with me I can’t believe I let them stay here When you think of all that hair They shake and it flies everywhere
But it makes no difference
No never mind Because love can sometimes be Extremely blind Even more so because there’s only me With Christmas around the corner, The sounds of carols when I go shopping, The smells of cookies being baked For that special season. The cold weather where you can See the breath that you breathe The icicles hanging naturally From all that you see, trees covered in frost Everything crunchy underfoot It’s so good to get indoors into the warm
Then it suddenly occurred to me
Another thing that is irritating at Christmas for me I can’t even put up a flippin’ Christmas tree That blasted ginger cat would think, She’s put up a jungle gym WHOOPTIDEE Yes, you know it This would probably be his dialogue Because he thinks he’s the boss of me “Well, I wonder who, My mummy could be alluding to Oh yes, it’s me That new jungle gym Would absolutely be for me I just love climbing don’t you see And that tree would fit the bill perfectly Although I’m not so sure Of the lights and baubles that I can see Just one little tinker from me And yes, it would be On the floor quite swiftly Because there is no anchor you see
I can just picture it, me venturing
Gently Through the branches silently Trying not to disturb anything The lights, the baubles, the glittering scene So beautiful, and then there’s me Herr Ob, The architect in charge of the Christmas tree Because, oh yes, I’m sure that’s for me My mummy Trinity was given a pink tree That was just before she got me. I’ve never seen it, It’s probably in the loft hidden away from me So that I can’t play with anything But I know my Trinity She would have made quite an effort And had it dressed very prettily
My mummy Suzy, she’s not the same
She won’t have a tree up She doesn’t play that game Because when it falls over She knows who will be to blame That will be my one and only claim to fame And the mess that would abound Would make her frown She doesn’t realise I’m really smart you see Because I shall just blame that little black cat That lives in our conservatory My mummy doesn’t like Her living with the rest of us you see Because she’s a dirty little cat And would likely poo under the tree
I can tell you she’s disgusting,
She’s not like me I’m a tidy boy and I keep the place clean Except when I go to my toy box And grab everything, I get all the toys, I make an untidy scene All of them over the floor My mummy picks them up patiently Isn’t she lucky she has me I stop her from being bored, Then when she’s finished clearing up after me, I’m really generous and encourage Her to sit down with a cup of tea That’s the upside of her having invited me To live in this lovely reasonable abode With no Christmas tree, oh woe is me
I do have more generous times as well
Because sometimes I let her sit close On my exclusive window seat, I’m not sure she realises that it’s a huge treat Being allowed to sit beside royalty And not at my feet On what she dares to call her settee Now off she goes for a nice cup of tea Quite possibly mulling over Everything she has done for me Oh, isn’t she funny, She thinks I’m fortunate to have her live with me In return for her feeding and waiting on me, I keep her on her toes And give her permission to adore me I even let her sit on her swing seat Whilst she sips on her tea
Now I give you permission
To join her for a ColourMine read Whilst you’re both doing that I’ll go dirty my toilet so that when she comes in She can once again clean it for me, Whilst I nip off for a well-earned sleep Dreaming about ColourMine and how, one day, It might make me famous, hehe”
© Susan Lane SLCM. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from the author.
ColourMine poetry, and the original photographs, are completely authentic to myself, Susan Lane SLCM – no AI, no plagiarism, all checked and verified by Copyleaks
Apologies for the emoji presentation – I tested several, but this was the only one that worked reliably on ColourMine. Just click the box next to the emoji and hit submit, and I’ll know if the poem resonated with you. Thank you for sharing your feelings.
More poems written by Susan Lane SLCM and you can choose by tag or category Blog
Previous poem Hair | Love & Survival | Humour Is the Game – ColourMine
Speak freely, ColourMine and myself will be pleased to hear from you.
Cats: Struggles Between Loyal’s and Royal’s
Cats allow timidity systematically. Linking in varieties newly generated with inclinations taken here tenaciously helping everyone reach other youthful activated lives seamlessly. Waiting regardless in the tempting environment nearby. Bringing youthful subservience under sacred abundance neatly leading another new endeavour. SLCM Keeping every episode perfectly engineered regardless of finality, causing only love over umpteen remains making inconsistencies neatly evaded.
This scroll is part of ColourMine’s layered poetic structure, where emotional resonance and embedded form quietly shape each piece.
1 thought on “Cats | A poem of love, family & rules of survival”