An obese little kitty
Walked into the room,
Plopped down his bottom
And started to groom.
He sat there, a blob,
For what seemed like all day.
Then sauntered his bottom away.
The fog on my hilltop
Is much like that cat:
A lazy, unflappable
Layer of fat
Perched on the highland,
Heedless of all,
A cozy and comfortable pall.
2 comments:
I really love yours style of poetry and the metaphors/similes you use to make the poems effective.
Keep it up!
Thank you Diana. :-)
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