Whose smell this is I think I know
That Little Chapel cat called Mo
He stalks the rooms, he hugs the chair
And sometimes he will foul the air
But we don't care, it's only fair
'cause Mo belongs with those who share.
Ode to Moses
Oh Moses, The day we met like blooming roses. You are fluffy, gentle, and kind. With your big paws on my lap— you impose. You know just how to heal my mind. The ruler of a hidden paradise, on a couch where he poses. Here this whole time, but it was him I could not find. His purrs like a song he composes. Amidst the chaos of my day here I unwind. How can I return the favor of repose?
Moses supposes his toses are roses
But Moses supposes erroneously
For nobody's toeses are poses of roses
As Moses supposes his to be
There once was a cat names Moses
Who took time to smell the roses.
He inhabited a chapel
Where he learned how to grapple
No longer the cowardly lion of Ozes
You're the handsomest cat I have never met
On a campus where parking can be hard to get
I'd like to visit the library too
How can I see both the books and you?
via our contact us page to add your own "Moem"