Avian Christmas Dish Wish

Three days before Christmas of twenty ten;
Strolling as usual under cherry tree;
I was on my wild hunting regimen;

Feline behavior really sets me free.

Killer instinct does dwell in feline mind;
Predatory drives hunting daily sport;
Regardless of how well fed, teeth must grind,

Domesticated in home of Bridgeport...

On boughs my four padded feet stood supreme;
Among wet leaves and rising of the sun;
Birds among the green, I plotted my scheme;

Poultry dish wish my fearless plot was spun.

Through cherry boughs I scaled through morn,
With every climb my wish grew out of sight;
"Come down Ginger, you are no leprechaun";

That voice in my head was stern and polite.

A Whiskas cat I am; I love to prey;
But church bells bellowed time for midnight mass;
Trees sang "Silent Night" and I had no sway;

Those black-birds chirped cherry-berry Christmas.

© Paterika Hengreaves
December 2010/Barbados

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