Poorly Leopard

Lying weakly draped on our grand settee
Where the hell is that leopard taking me?
That leopard who with the sharpest claws
Held high the World in his spotted paws.

Growling, croaking, so overcome by germs
Groaning at nurse to bring this ‘flu’ to terms
Battling to hold leopard’s sickly paws aloft
Insisting this feline has not yet gone soft.

But still a prowling, graceful, bristly beast
Who’s dynamite when not feeling creased
Sharp, fiery whiskers and rough, licking tongue
Dappled cat’s flattened ears so sickly overhung.

Memories of health pass leopard’s misty eye
As he pads to the fridge for the naughtiest pie.

 
[A common experience for many of us who, in the jaws of ‘flu’, can only hope for a comfortable return to health……….and quickly, please!]