Cubbie Cat.

There's a cat in our yard,
and his name is Cubbie,
with dark stripy fur-
he's a little bit chubby.
He's brave and he's strong
and he likes being alone,
but the neighborhood cats
visit Cubbie at home.

He's an early riser
and watches the birds -
the blue jays and cardinals,
who sing, without words,
and woodpeckers tapping
at the little birch tree,
say Cubbie, “What's new?
Do you have news for me?”

When the sun it rises
to greet him each day,
he walks with a swagger
as he makes
his way
into the bushes
where he lies in wait
to see what his Mama
will put on his plate.

Will it be pate of Turkey or Liver
or maybe she's put by
a tiny wee sliver
of Salmon or Tuna
or freshly cooked chicken,
no wonder that Cubbie,
he's always lickin'
his lips in excitement
as he sees his dish
put down on the back step -
will he get his wish?

For when he has tasted his fill for the day,
Cubbie will stroll
in the long grass to play,
dozing in sunshine,
chasing cat tails,
scratching the gatepost,
where he likes to wail,
until darkness falls
and in dusky night
he fades in the shadows,
his eyes,
beams of light.

Copyright Suzy Davies, 2019. All Rights Reserved.