Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Whiskers that tickle your face.
As grey as a gloomy day.
His pur has been changed by a cold.
Which happened at seven months old.
He eats like there is no tomorrow. 
When it comes to food he will beg, steal or borrow.
His best friend is our dog Princess.
And watching them play isl priceless.
I love him as if he was my son.
Every heart in the families he's won.
He is not just a cat or a pet.
Sent by God, I'll wager to bet.
Love must be his middle name.
And joy is ours since he came.