Not sat on the window sill where he normally resides
I look in the garden to see where he hides

Conspicuous by his absence I have a feeling of woe
All ready for work should I stay or go

Cats are not slaves to tables of time
When I get home tonight everything will be fine

I hurry home from work slave to the cause
Hoping to hear the patter of tiny cat paws

My window sill empty I now wonder why
My heart missed a beat and I wanted to cry

We'll not think of maybes if buts or sorrow
*I'm sure he'll be home for breakfast tomorrow