Ode to Oliver

The cat on my lap
wears a gray cape and cap.
He keeps them remarkably clean.

“You are what you wear!,”
he would seem to declare.
For without them, he’d never be seen.

(Sometimes, you just need a silly cat poem. And Dad liked it and repeated each line after me, which made it all worthwhile.)

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1 Response to Ode to Oliver

  1. Cullen says:

    Lovely! A little humor is just what the doctor ordered.

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