There is a dampness in the air,

I smell it with every breath I take,

One other companion on my chair,

His restlessness keep my senses awake,

He pounces, he bites, he takes my pen,

For inspiration he does not let me down,

With his fury nose and paws, he challenges me again,

If I were Keats he’d be my Brown.


(ps. i just thought i should add that mag if you read this, we are still keats and brown too! ;) )