This poem was penned by our photographer, Philip! A multi-talented man, he is!
THE CAT AND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
What is this I see?
O, Christmas tree,
With ornaments arrayed for me;
With branches on which I can climb
And hide amongst when so inclined.
So what if it sways
When I climb?
In all the days
I have dissembled
There’s never been a time
When…Oh dear, it now is lying flat.
But surely they won’t blame the cat!
And these round things?
They are my toys.
When I knock one down,
It makes a noise
And then my human friends will frown.
Apparently, I’ve “broken” it
And caused a temporary snit.
It once belonged to Grandma Flo,
But hey, that’s life;
All things must go.
If you wished to keep it safe from me,
Then why’d you hang it on a tree?!
And ‘neath the tree,
(Now slightly wet)
Are boxes wrapped up carefully.
Even though I’m lacking thumbs,
Unwrapping is a task that comes
Easily to me.
Unsheathe the claws
And merrily shred
Wrapping, ribbons, tapes and bows,
On and on this pleasure goes.
(The gifts don’t mean a thing, you see;
The boxes are the treat for me!)
My spirits filled with Christmas cheer;
I do so love this time of year.
Alas, I hear the steps of doom;
I’m now excluded from this room.
But I have cat tricks up my sleeve.
(So to speak)
For when they’re sleeping Christmas Eve,
I’ll do like Sinterklaas would do
And leave my gifts inside their shoes.
The cat should have the final say
When morning dawns on Christmas Day.
- Philip Tingey