This poem by Society member Martin St Clere Smithe appeared in our Folio # 74 in 2020.
My Cat Nugget
My cat Nugget
When he sees one
he just has to go for it.
That mug. It’s
Empty.
Drained of tea
By me
I shout
‘No Nugget, no Nugget, no Nugget, no’
All pre-remptory.
It’s pavlovian
When Nugget sees mugs
He cannot abide
Not getting inside.