She sits on the wall
The full moon is over Funchal
Her eyes on me
Can you tell me
If the cat’s happy or sad
By the shape of its tail?
She waits with hope
Maybe some fish will come her way
There is plenty here
The cat under the tree
Has no inkling that
Christmas is now over
Eyes searching for
A tasty snack dropped by chance;
The hungry pussy cat
Mice sing prais-es,
Their coast is clear:
Our belov-ed pussy is no more
Sitting by the gate,
Watching patiently:
The daily life of a cat