I’m proffered every day –
When Zander roams into the room,
Rubbing everything in sight,
Maowing greetings,
Thrusting his pointy snout
Against my leg, marking me
(In ancient feline fashion)
His, his, his.
He swipes his hugely plumy tail
Around in air, bumps the chair,
The table leg, the wall;
And I do nothing special
To deserve this treat
Except love him, love him, love him.
©2012 John I. Blair
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