Tired, mired from demands of the day
I shuffle to pillow and bed where I pray.
Peaceful stupor is what I desire
As stress and worry slowly expire
When something heavy upon my crown
Fusses and dances then settles down
a headache? a stroke? I’m alert and awake
what is this ruckus, this tremor this quake?
No sooner I ponder this mystery
When there’s a bouncing and scratching at my knee.
Still groggy, dazed and becoming quite grumpy
As my quiet refuge turns noisy and lumpy.
For my hollowed haven of last resort
is not a place to play and cavort
Unless deep sleep is not the aim
but instead a kindling of loves hot flame
In my ear is a purring and wheezing
A tail in my face and I can’t stop sneezing
It’s my wounded warrior, my one eyed Jack
“Pumpkin” rests at my head and back.
The weight and scratch upon my knees
Is “Winnie” forever tormented by fleas
Bought from a coven of Salem witches
And now is cursed by constant itches.
So gently I coo and pet each one
And wait till the itching and fussing is done
Then peace and stillness pervade the scene
And we all fall asleep perchance to dream