There's a feline on my stoop
Who is yowling to beat heck.
If he doesn't stop his singing
In the morning I'll be wrecked.
What he's after I don't know
There's no tuna in this house,
Though perhaps the wretched feline
Thinks he sees a tasty mouse?
That's absurd on every level,
Both the basement and the main,
All my house has got is spiders,
And some beetles when it rains.
So begone you yowling creature
Lest I shake my fist in vain.
That'll show you what I'm made of!
(Mainly tired and addled brain.)