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I arise before the sun,
Before My Person’s sleeping’s done,
And sit upright upon her chest
(The solar plexus works the best).
I choose a note that’s just off-key
And repeat and repeat atonally:
Meow. Meow. Meow.

I stare at her and do not blink,
Not a single-ingle wink.
Spellbound by my unmelody,
My unrelenting cat-cophony,
Id-expressive, a beautiful sound,
I say it over and over, round after round:
Meow. Meow. Meow.

If she persists in her fake snooze
I use the bite-the-elbow ruse—
Nothing bad, a quick wee nip
(She did, be honest, ask for it),
And then, once again,
With my fine feline Zen:
Meow. Meow. Meow.

I am patient, it’s my job,
And win when finally I hear: Bob!
For *#**%#’s sake!
Hallelujah, she’s awake.
Sorry, I say with my inside voice,
But really, Big Biped, you gave me no choice.

Soon she’s up and down the stairs
A little grumpy but who cares.
When free-range bits pile up in my bowl,
I think she’s excited to have reached my goal.

For more Bobosophy, note my random posts @Bob_A_Cat