Lay down your head you Ninny, You old Dear!
You have a home: there’s nothing now to fear.
Lightening, stinging hail, sleet, sweeping rain:
It’s just a storm! It’s not a hurricane.
Forget those grim years when you were a stray,
Back when you scurried on from night to day,
When hunger made you reedier than a rail,
And frost nipped you to ice, whiskers to tail!
Now you’re so round and warm, cozy and dry,
Bold, sassy, nimble, and no longer shy.
Curled up you’re sleeker than a sable hat.
In fact we must admit you’re rather fat.
So hush! Go back to sleep you little loon!
I’m sure the storm will end this afternoon.
Written Feb 18, 2009 © Anissa Nedzel Gage, All rights reserved