Frustrated Cat, by my Great-grandma Irving

Velvet wants a bird to catch,
Blue jay or nuthatch,
Whisky jack or Chickadee
Will he all the same to me.

At the window here I sit,
Feeling like a nit-wit,
Looking through two panes of glass
While the birds go flying past.

While I dream of dreadful deeds
They are gobbling sunflower seeds,
While I ponder how to do it,
They are bolting lumps of suet.

What a place this world could be
For a fine he-cat like me.
Maybe in the month of June
I’ll make them sing a different tune.

But Velvet’s hopes are growing dim,
All the birds seem wise to him.
Panther-like they see him pass
Creeping through the waving grass,
Twittering sparrows at the eaves
Are laughing at him in their sleeves.

-Jan 20, 1964