Paw, the cat,
“The cat”,
‘Cause he is not
“My cat”
No one ever owns a cat,
They are wrong about that.

Is getting old enough
To hunt.
But he can’t decide
(Or so I interpret)
Whether to go for
Fish or Fowl.

‘Cause he eyes the seas,
And he eyes the trees,
Making little, plaintive, chatters.

But the partridge,
That look big enough
To carry him away,
They must be

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}