MY POOCH CALLED NEVILLE

MY POOCH CALLED NEVILLE

very often in me day;

as the resident scribe,

am asked to write

in my own expressive way

on many subjects that vary,

some which can be absurd,

or to me they’re ridiculous be,

or I don’t like!

so, in order for me to write,

about all things

the humble feline four-legged friend,

and make it sound fine

but what do I know?

‘bout and are

their redeeming features,

when all they do is piddle and poo

right behind the lounge room chair,

and never clean their muddle

of their puddle there,

and outside make a bloody mess

of poor old budgerigars;

in colourful hues of greens and blues,

and as for being an affectionate beast

don’t worry they full of it at least,

so, my friends,

the moral of this ditty be,

it’s such a pity you see,

the humble meow and me;

will never be considered

as the best of friends,

while my pooch is called “Neville”

and he is the resident friend.