Milton's Cat Poetry, Continued

As National Poetry Month continues, guest blogger Milton Doyle Gunderson III returns with more:

Milton Doyle Gunderson III:
Poet, Sock Thief

Dogs, of course, can't do poetry. They're too busy drooling on everything. Plus, they're dumb. And they smell bad.

Cats are more introspective:






What Is That Thing?

Hairy snake behind me always,

Lurking twitching taunting.

Less predictable than a shadow,

Visible not visible.

Powerful instincts urge me to action,

Kill kill kill.

This hurts me more than it hurts you.

More Cat Poetry from Milton

Guest Blogger Milton Doyle Gunderson III favors us again with his verse, in honor of National Poetry Month:

Milton Doyle Gunderson III:
Poet, killer

I've had many people (OK, 2) ask me when I find time to compose poetry, and I have to say, you just have to make the time. Most cats, when you see their ears twitch - they're writing poetry in their heads. Either that, or they're getting ready to attack something.

Here's today's poem:

Destiny

Backyard fraught with danger

Steve the Neighbor Cat lurks and hisses

I may be small now, but I grow with every passing day

And I will face my destiny like the panther I see in my mind

While you, my friend, jump over the fence and hide.

Guest blogger: Milton Doyle Gunderson III

In honor of National Poetry Month, I am turning over the blog to Milton Doyle Gunderson III, who will favor us with his cat poetry...

Milton Doyle Gunderson III:
Poet, bug hunter

Thank you. It's not widely known that cats are very into poetry. You may not like it, but we do. Plus, I can jump really far.

Anyway, today's selection is a haiku:

I walk on counters

But you always tell me no

I play when you’re away