abby

As we sit here n' wait
perchance some one will call;
then perhaps they're too busy
for us two after all;
so you sit n' preen
as I sip my tea slowly;
with eyes closed I can dream,
of my sweet precious abby,
perhaps some one will come
to visit n' chat;
tho we two aren't much fun,
so not much chance of that,
still we each have the other
you precious old cat
while i sit n' dose
n' you sit n' scratch;
oh my, this porch is so creaky
n' tis oft' windy as well
n' our chair rocks so slowly
as tolls the distant bell,
for time departs too swiftly
n' night chill fast fills the air;
a cool darkness surrounds us quickly,
as my warm shawl we will share,
whilst waiting in quiet for someone to remember,
or who perhaps knows not we're here.