By J.Lynne Moore
What do I say, to those in love;
that carry on like, cooing turtledove.
Do I scorn their love so sweet?
When they display, affection on the street.
Does my temper flare and rage,
as another couple walks out on the stage?
Do you see me weep and pine,
because I don’t hear, “You are mine”?
Heavens no! For goodness sake!
Love to me, has too high a stake!
For me… my cat, is the perfect mate!
She makes for a splendid, dinner date.
Never once has she been unkind;
a more amiable companion, you will never find.
She does not ever have a complaint,
I think I would say she is quite a saint!
Oh, her hair…makes quite a mess;
but I shan’t complain, about her dress.
This may sound all very queer;
I assure you it’s not, she’s quite a dear.
So, you can keep, all your lovey stuff;
To me it seems to be nothing but fluff.
As for me…and my sweet cat;
We are a perfect pair, and that is that.
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