Posted by: Jonathan Caswell | August 22, 2012




The cat’s atop the table,

He thinks it is now his bed…

We thought he’d make a paper nest

But he pushed them off instead.

Six month’s accumulation

Pushed off in a couple of nights…

And now the rug is littered

With things once lost from sight.

Our cat is avoiding the flooring

That was treated to kill the fleas…

He takes the furniture high road

And runs when he can’t for his needs.

Our Bible on the table

We moved when he slipped…

Smooth leather was not able

To provide his paws much grip.

A paper avalanche caught him

In a vortex heading down….

Perhaps that’s why he no more trusts

Those papers laying around!

The table-sized ironing board wobbles,

To sound off he’s on there…

But lately he sleeps behind it

Protected in his lair.


—Jonathan Caswell



  1. sweet good job

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