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A nice crackling fire and a warm cosy chair;

A tummy that’s fish-full - and he’s almost there.

    Human voices are muffled and then gently fade

    And this puss-cat’s small body is quite gently laid.

 

His eyelids soon close and they shut out the day.

Then this tired tabby’s mind quite gently will stray - - -

     But tell me of what does this tabby cat dream?

     Oh that’s easy: fish suppers and dishes of cream.

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Copyright on all my poems

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