Another poem on the theme of "Victory", but also on the theme of "cats". I do like cats - intriguing creatures - unless of course, they leave me presents on the lawn, I'm much more careful with the lawnmower these days. But I digress. This poem's called...
The fur widespread in tufts of white
Like stacks upon a farmer’s field
Left from the skirmish in the night:
My skill in battle thus revealed.
There will be peace the next few days;
A time for reappraisal then
I’ll watch as my opponent weighs
me up and thinks “I’ll try again.”
All gone the feigned indifference;
Forgotten all past minor wars.
He’ll drop the days spent in pretence,
He’ll come at me with unsheathed claws.
He will not win – he never does.
He always thinks he’ll come out best.
But soon, again, he will be puz-
-zl-ing why he’s the one who’s been outguessed.
I don’t know why there’s this bad blood:
To settle some imagined score?
No matter, ‘cause I’m feline good
And victory is mine once more.