He’s Not Really An Ogre

He stretches aesthetically on the shag pile rug,

Stretched out in all his glory,

I smile lovingly into his eyes,

Often pondering his full life story.

***

He slowly rises to his feet,

And sashays past me like I don’t exist,

I give a little grin, amused,

Who does he think he is, treating me like I’ve been dismissed.

***

I decide to follow him to see where he’s heading,

Only to find he has collapsed upon the bed,

Deciding it’s time for a lazy afternoon nap,

I’ll not wake him, knowing he’s inclined to bloodshed.

***

He’s truly adorable laying on my bed asleep,

So much so I want to join him,

Curl around his warmth,

But I won’t, as waking him will be grim.

***

I don’t mean to make him sound like an ogre,

He’s really not, in fact he’s truly super cute,

But he likes his sleep and hates being woken,

He needs his rest and relaxation, all the better to re-boot.

***

When he wakes on his own, his mood is delightful,

He comes alive and is so much fun,

Loving and caring,

With enough energy for a quick run.

***

Once he’s worn off the bulk of his restlessness,

He’ll come looking for some chow,

Rubbing up against me,

With his most adorable meow.

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Originally posted on Medium