Splatty Flat Cat

by Barbara Miller

I see it in dogs
Enjoying their rest,
But far and beyond,
the cats do it best.
After stalking and hunting
And planning attacks,
And, of course, after eating,
They’re flat on their backs.
Reposed and prostrate
Exhausted from fun.
They recline and stretch out
In a warm piece of sun.
Eyes squinched into slits
With a palpable bliss.
The cat becomes flat
As its own dinner dish.
Tummy up with legs splayed –
Exposed and laid bare.
No sense of danger,
Not one single care.
How luscious that is,
To know nothing of worry.
To drift into dreamland
Soft, warm and furry.
It’s the best kind of sleep,
Secure, safe and strong,
Deep, pure and sweet.
Can I come along?
The temptation’s too much.
That belly’s inviting.
It’s warm and it’s fuzzy.
My hand wants delighting.
Invading the space          
As my fingers outreach.
Feel the heat, hear the purr
The trance is now breached.
While sating my senses
By rubbing its belly,
I sense no alarm,
Still flaccid as jelly.

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Posted in Living abroad, Uncategorized, writing
One comment on “Splatty Flat Cat
  1. Susan Darcy says:



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