THE CAT IS ON THE MAT
(a.k.a. Killing Time In The Office)

Once there was on orange cat who lived top of a church roof
She doesn't know what she looks like, can't tell a flower from a hoof
Her food comes from the skies, or bats who can't really fly
And she thought that it will always be the same, until the day she die


But then came a tomcat whose fur was white as snow
If Mary ever saw him,her lambs, she wouldn't care if they'd follow
Needless to say that this tomcat was the epitome of whitedom
And when our she-cat saw him, she thought "this creature owns a kingdom"


Our orange cat and the white tomcat stared at each other for a while
Then this little poem went out of hand, so I'll end it with a smile.

POETRY FOR JULY





I ran up the bridge
Then ran going down
Again I trudged up the bridge
And I'm not slowing down
I'm looking for the highest ridge
I seem to be lost in this town
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I'm having some popcorn
For breakfast, that's not healthy
But my mind cannot be torn
Because this breakfast is for free
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Working is a bummer
I'd rather read a book whole day
But that can't buy me a Hummer
So in this cubicle I stay