Mr Purry Has A Complaint Poem by Tom Billsborough
Mr Purry Has A Complaint
You have no right
To call me "La Chatte".
That's rude as you very well know.
Okay, I go
Out at night
And you never know where.
But what do I care?
By day it's my Fate
To muse and meditate
Upon my favourite chair.
Do I call you a "Tom"
When you go out all day
And come back all gasping and grey?
No, I call you my slave.
So please behave
And no more of that.
Remember that I'm the top cat!
A Tom (my name!) means the same!
I think you had better let him do the writing for a bit thoroughly enjoyable
as explained to Jude below he's busy digesting his Turkey by snoozing on MY COUCH! But when he wakes he can take over writing duties for a while. Mind you, he might start making Catty comments on everyone and then I'll be in lumber!
You captured the essence of Mr P to a T lol nicely penned Tom, and good chuckle factor lol Annette
He's suddenly adopted my knees as his new bed. God, he's a heavyweight. Must stop stuffing him with Turkey and book him in at the local Gym!
Yes, and he wrote it without a paws. Do I win worst pun of the year award?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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7/23/2025 8:14:22 AM # 1.0.0
Le chat is a friend of man usually, but occasionally cat may start bossing over his boss! Nice poem. Enjoyed the subtle humour and the play on words.