She lies upon the rug and percolates.
With paws rolled neatly underneath, she waits
And smiles. What secret meditations lie
Behind her half-closed eyes? Mere human, I
Have asked, but she ignored me. She will love
Her humans (if, of course, they truly prove
That they reserve their warmest place for her);
Inspect the house; reward them with a purr;
And roll up in a ball beside their feet.
But if they cross-examine, she’ll retreat
And close her eyes and think of catlike things.
Then suddenly up like a lamb she springs
On some important business down the hall.
(It’s classified: no humans know at all.)