To The Cat, in Honored Remembrance of Your Victories

In regal furs you lounge about your throne,

which is any place where you lay your head,

sending us out as though we were your drones

to fetch your food and massage you in bed.

We are happy to serve these your demands,

knowing full well the service you provide.

For as we rub your back with our own hands

we know tiny monsters in these walls hide,

and you, with your many colored robes,

alone are able to hold them at bay,

while with swords of your hand and mouth you show

the results of your victory everyday.

            Though small (and sometimes useless) you may seem,

            You yet, ‘Uncle’ Elizabeth, are our queen.