Lunch Time

LUNCH TIME
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One paw and then another stretches out
by the arched backed black cat,
rising from her sleeping place, no doubt
brought awake by the smell of food
caused by the heating of the fat,
ready to cook chips for another brood.

The kittens, disturbed by their mother,
also stretching and stirring
tumbling out ready to discover
what mischief they could wreak
by playing amongst their mothers fur,
she responding with a playful tweak.

Plates rattle on the hard tiled floor
and in expectation they all rush
dashing through the open door
into the sun lit scullery, where
in steaming splendour, bowls flush
with fish, sit waiting to disappear

Lips are licked, whiskers preened,
much washing of fur
until all is cleaned
now slinking back to their favourite nest
with a chorus of sleepy purrs,
for an afternoon of well earned rest