By P.S.Gifford
He is there again.
Hiding behind the garden wall,
Scrutinizing my every move,
He does not think that I can see him.
He thinks he is hidden from my view.
But I see him aright.
I certainly do.
I know he is observing me-
as the hairs on the back of my neck are sticking up…
I first spied him spying on me,
About a month ago,
And he has been back every day.
He just sits there.
Watching.
Waiting.
But for what I surely can not guess.
He is, I have to admit, a very handsome cat…
Perhaps I should offer him a saucer of cream?
That peeping Tom cat of mine…
