Form: Cornish Sonnet
My cat has chosen her bed for the night,
And in my ears resounds her sleeping purr,
As I reach out to click the bedside light,
I feel her paw begin to stretch and squeeze
Beneath my head; to cat my hair is fur,
For me this sleeping thing is not a breeze.
My cat she moves about to find her spot,
Throughout the night until she finds the place,
That perfect place; whilst sleeping: I am not.
From by my head to feet and back again,
She moves around, she's stalking dreams with grace,
My cat in bed is driving me insane.
For me this sleeping thing is not a breeze
My cat in bed is driving me insane
©JGFarmer2016
A Garret Poet 