Hi Fred! I love your simple but beautiful poem. I'm 65 years old and I like writing funny poems. Here's a poem for you and your brother and sister:
The big black cat crept across the road, and finished up under a semi’s load. It was feeling stiff and sore, but that’s what cat’s nine lives are for. So even though it took a whack, the cat bounced back.
The big black cat crept across the street and finished up under a giant’s feet. There were guts and there was gore, but that’s what cat’s nine lives are for. So even though it took a smack, the cat bounced back.
The big black cat should have never played With an Army tank parade.
2 comments:
Hi Fred! I love your simple but beautiful poem. I'm 65 years old and I like writing funny poems. Here's a poem for you and your brother and sister:
The big black cat crept across the road,
and finished up under a semi’s load.
It was feeling stiff and sore,
but that’s what cat’s nine lives are for.
So even though it took a whack,
the cat bounced back.
The big black cat crept across the street
and finished up under a giant’s feet.
There were guts and there was gore,
but that’s what cat’s nine lives are for.
So even though it took a smack,
the cat bounced back.
The big black cat should have never played
With an Army tank parade.
Dear Di, I love your poem :)
I love the cat with nine lives.
Fred
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