Sunday, 1 January 2012

My Cat

My cat Paddy has furry paws,
But they’re not as dangerous as his claws.
Sharp as razors, made to kill,
Out on a hunt he’s silent and still.

In the house in front of the fire,
The nights on the tiles obviously tire.
Whiskers twitching, curled up on the rug,
Warm and cosy, looking smug.

He plays in the garden, singing his song.
He dodges and jumps all day long.
But when he’s hungry he flicks his tail,
He bursts into the kitchen without fail.

Alex Warrior
Year 5
9 years old

3 comments:

  1. This poem is outstanding Alex. The use of humour is excellent and I love the characterisation of the cat; it seems very well observed. Well done!

    Mr Sturgess

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  2. Another great piece of creative writing quite rightly included in the Collection. Just love the thought of Paddy ' singing his song'. Excellent!

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  3. Thats BRILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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