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A photo of Charly the Golden Retriever and Harry the Cat getting to know each other Harry the Cat is my funny poem about the Cat Distribution System and how Harry came into my life. The Cat Distribution System is a playful, mystical internet theory that proposes cats are assigned to humans by some weird cosmic force. This feline phenomenon is a belief that when you find a cat in your life, it is the cat  that has mysteriously chosen you as its human – perhaps you too are one of the lucky ‘chosen’ ones? Harry the Cat (or The Cat Distribution System Poem) I’ve acquired a pussy cat, much to my dismay I certainly didn’t want one, he just sort of came my way Harry came from Harwich where he lived with aunty Pat But aunty has been taken ill so I’ve acquired a cat   I don’t like cats, they bite and scratch and cover you in fur And they kill our little birdies so it’s doggies I prefer But no-one else could take him in, I said we’d have a chat I guess our hearts went out to him, so now we’ve got a cat   I think we’re going to like him though, he’s settled in so well And he won’t be killing birdies ‘cos I’ve given him a bell He doesn’t bite or scratch, just purrs happily all day And he’s very clean and tidy with the dreaded litter tray   And what they say is rubbish, cats and dogs don’t fight They seem to love each other, they bonded at first sight He cuddles up with Charly and gives a little groom There’s so much love between those two, they should get a room!   It’s almost like it’s destiny, like it was meant to be Maybe the universe could see we needed company I never thought I’d have a cat, it’s funny how life goes Do cats have magic powers…possibly….who know?! Before coming to live with us, Harry had lived with my elderly and eccentric Auntie Joyce. We don’t know where he lived before that. For the life of me I can’t imagine why, but for some reason or other (if you go along with the Cat Distribution System theory), out of all the humans in the world, Harry had ‘chosen’ this strange lady as his human! Maybe he was sent to be company for her at a difficult time. Who knows. I first became aware of his existence about 6 months before Uncle Fred passed away and Joyce became a widow. In her wisdom, Auntie Joyce had decided that this poor cat was a stray. She said it was obvious that no-one was feeding him. She refused to hear anyone who said he looked perfectly ok. And so she ‘took him in’. She literally took him in though. She pretty much force fed him three cooked chickens a week and rarely let him out of the house – he was almost held prisoner. We all tried to explain to her that this wasn’t fair and that he might have a caring family who would be worried about him. Auntie Joyce assured us that she had searched high and low for his rightful owners – she had asked at every house in the town, knocked on every door, but no-one had claimed him. Auntie Joyce was prone to telling porkies though and we never really believed this. When Joyce was taken into hospital and couldn’t cope any more at home on her own, her biggest worry was ‘cat’ (she had never given him a name of his own) so in a moment of madness, I promised that I would look after him. We did put notices in the local post office to see if anyone would claim him but nobody came forward and he had not been microchipped. So he came home with us. We already had Charly the Golden Retriever, our lockdown dog – that’s another story (I didn’t want a dog either!). Charly was a lively 4 year old at the time and I was very nervous about introducing them. Would Harry scratch Charly? Would Charly frighten Harry? In the event, I needn’t have worried. Golden Retrievers have such wonderful temperaments – Charly wouldn’t hurt a fly and they quickly became great companions. So the next thing was to get Harry checked over by the vet. He clearly hadn’t been neutered so that was decided upon – poor old Harry…... Harry the Cat Goes to the Vet   Harry’s very proud of what’s beneath his tail He presents it to me frequently - he’s definitely male I avert my eyes but I bet the ladies are impressed I’d say in that department, our Harry has been blessed   He’s not going to like me though, he’s going to the vet They’re going to take his tackle off – I haven’t told him yet It’s such a big decision but they say you really should To stop unwanted kittens - it’s for the Greater Good Apparently Tom cats are more inclined to fight And fraternise and fornicate with mollies of the night They say that Toms are bullies, they say that Tom cats stray And they make your house all stinky ‘cos they get an urge to spray The vet says he’ll get over it (easy for her to say!) She says there’s nothing to it - she does 20 ops a day So I’ve taken that decision - he’s going in at nine I’m sure he’ll soon recover, I’m sure he will be fine I feel like such a traitor though, will he lose his va-va voom? Will he lose his youthful vigour and become all doom and gloom? I hope he doesn’t hold a grudge, I hope he’ll soon forget All about his pompoms and his visit to the vet The vet was right – he recovered really quickly – but he was such a sad sight for the first day or two…… Harry Isn’t Happy Harry isn’t happy, he’s as wretched as can be They took away his tackle and I think he’s blaming me The vet said he was very good, everything went well But now he’s home, he’s very sad – he’s raising merry hell! Poor pussy cat can’t settle, he won’t leave it alone Licking where they used to be, so he’s got to wear a cone He’s barging into everything, he just can’t seem to rest He’s all confused and clumsy and looks a bit depressed You can’t explain to pussy cats it’s for the greater good Honestly, if looks could kill, I think he really would! Pretty much the next day, Harry woke up hungry. The same thing had happened to Charly after his little op. Vets don’t seem to mention this beforehand – your pet’s whole life suddenly revolves around the next feeding time. It’s a shame really…. Harry the Hungry Cat Harry’s always hungry since we took him to the vet “Meow! Meow! Meow!” He’s a very needy pet “Feed me, Mummy, FEED ME! You haven’t fed me yet It must be nearly dinner time, I’m worried you’ll forget” When I come down in the morning, I get a meet and greet “Feed me Mummy, FEED ME!” He’s there under my feet When I come home from the office, “Meow! Meow! Meow!” Harry’s there beside me – “Feed Me Mummy NOW!” Like I said, I never really wanted a cat or a dog. I like to keep my house nice and clean and tidy and animals, I would say especially Golden Retrievers, are not conducive to that. As my Nanna Roydon used to say, cleanliness is next to godliness – not that I’m a religious person! Anyway, I now spend vast, almost ridiculous amounts of time hoovering and trying to make my house smell nice – I’m fighting a loosing battle though…… Harry the Hairy Cat It’s hairy on the sofa It’s hairy on the floor It’s hairy on the worktops (They’re the hardest to ignore) I hate hairs in my fridge And I hate hairs in my sink But the hairs I hate the most Are floating in my drink There are hairs on my elbows And hairs are on my knees Hairs are in the bread bin And I found one on the cheese The cause of my displeasure is curled up on my lap Purring like a nutter, he’s a very happy chap I don’t want to disturb him though, he’s in his happy place I swear that’s a contented smile on Harry’s hairy face So it’s hairy on the table - we’re in a right old state I’ll hoover when I’m able – ‘til then the hairs can wait Obviously I can’t blame Harry for all the hairs – Charly does his fair share of the shedding. But I do find myself getting more fed up with Harry for some reason. I think it might be because he’s so naughty. He absolutely refuses to do what he’s told! I did speak to one lady who told me that cats have to be trained but I don’t seem to be having much luck in that department….. Harry the Naughty Cat Harry is a naughty boy Harry’s in disgrace He keeps jumping on the table Doesn’t seem to know his place He keeps jumping on the worktops Where I prepare our food I push him off but up he hops He’s in a naughty mood Charly, on the other hand, does everything he’s told Charly is a good boy, he’s as good as gold Why are cats so stubborn? Does anybody know? Can you train a pussy cat? If not, he’ll have to go! Since taking Harry in, I had made it very clear to everyone I knew that if I could find another home for him – if someone really wanted a cat - I would be happy to pass him on. We kept him in for about 6 weeks before letting him out of the house – so that he knew we were his new humans. He had been watching the birds from the window with such gusto - tail twitching madly – that I was sure he would be keen to get out there. So on the chosen day I was really surprised that he needed any encouragement at all to venture out into the great outdoors. We put treats out on the patio and everything! Then, when he did step out of the door, very slowly and timidly at first, all of a sudden he bolted – as they say, like a rat up a drain pipe! I wasn’t expecting that and stupidly didn’t have any shoes on - by the time I found some, he had completely disappeared – it was terrible….. Harry Runs Away Something terrible has happened Harry’s run away I’m beside myself with worry Praying he’s ok We thought that he was ready To go outside and play But he shot off like a rocket Oh what a rotten day! I wish I hadn’t let him out Kept him safe inside He doesn’t know the area He must be terrified We called his name for hours on end We shook his box of treats We searched the garden high and low And all the nearby streets We messaged all our neighbours We called the local vet We’re trying not to give up hope But everyone’s upset And now it’s getting dark outside Wherever can he be? Is he hiding in a bush somewhere Or stuck up in a tree? Suddenly I heard a noise As faint as faint can be Was it my imagination? I called him hopefully Then there he was, as bold as brass Strutting through the door Rubbing up against my leg The cat I now adore! ‘Til now I hadn’t realised Quite how much I care I thought he was a nuisance Just a fluffy ball of hair But he’s worked his way into my heart He’s made our house a home I just need to go online And buy a grooming comb! So many cats go missing all the time and I now understand just how awful this is. Like people say, it’s the not knowing. We were lucky that he came back. But I must be honest and admit that ours was only a temporary home for Harry. My mum and her partner decided that they would like to have him. When he was with Joyce, his coat was matted and I think he probably had fleas – she didn’t know how to look after him properly – so he wasn’t such an appealing prospect. After a month or two with us, he really did blossom into a beautiful, clean, loving pet. He is a really lovely cat and I am sure he is now in his forever home. I often take Charly to visit and they are still great mates.

Cats have long fascinated humans with their mysterious behaviour and seemingly magical powers. Among these wonders is their uncanny knack for finding just the right place to call home, known as The Cat Distribution System. Harry the Cat is my poem about how Harry came to live with us - even though we have a dog and didn't particularly want a cat! Cats are known for their independence and selective nature when it comes to choosing where they live. Unlike many pets, cats often seem to decide on their own when and where to settle. This behavior has sparked curiosity and inspired stories about their mystical powers. It also inspired my funny poem, Harry the Cat... Harry the Cat and Charly the Golden Retriever The Harry The Cat (or The Cat Distribution System) I’ve acquired a pussy cat, much to my dismay I certainly didn’t want one, he just sort of came my way Harry came from Harwich where he lived with aunty Pat But aunty has been taken ill so I’ve acquired a cat   I don’t like cats, they bite and scratch and cover you in fur And they kill our little birdies so it’s doggies I prefer But no-one else could take him in, I said we’d have a chat I guess our hearts went out to him, so now we’ve got a cat   I think we’re going to like him though, he’s settled in so well And he won't be killing birdies 'cos I’ve given him a bell He doesn’t bite or scratch, just purrs happily all day And he’s very clean and tidy with the dreaded litter tray   And what they say is rubbish, cats and dogs don’t fight They seem to love each other, they bonded at first sight He cuddles up with Charly and gives a little groom There’s so much love between those two, they should get a room!   It’s almost like it’s destiny, like it was meant to be Like the universe decided that we needed company I never thought I’d have a cat, it’s funny how life goes Maybe cats have magic powers…possibly….who know?!

I’d love to tell you to your face You are an absolute disgrace A dipstick dirtbag dumb-arse Imbecilic waste of space You scumbag cockroach der-brain Crawl back from whence you came You good for nothing fleabag Slither back into your drain You dim-wit dullard dunce bucket Moronic troglodyte You cretinous filthy maggot You disgusting lump of shite You dumdum dumbo knucklehead You numb-skull piece of crap You shit for brains, you stinky poop I feel better now, that’s a wrap!

Phone Zombies THIS IS A WARNING! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK We're being infiltrated, we need to fight back Mobiles are invading us, we're being zombified They're taking over silently, our brains are being fried For some the fight is over, it's too late to bring them back Their eyes are blank, they can't relate, their mouths fall open slack You see them moving gormlessly, mobile phone in hand Eyes are glued, they can't look up - they're lost in Zombie Land You see Phone Zombies everywhere, walking in the street In shops and restaurants, some with children at their feet They show no interaction, don't seem to even care They're deep inside their mobile phones, don't even know you're there Phones are taking over, they've been programmed this way They're gleaning all our info, hear every word we say They know where we are going and they know where we have been They know just what we're looking at, they know what we have seen Mobiles are like parasites, they keep their hosts alive But they're sucking out our data - they need it to survive Every time you switch it on, it's tightening its grip Ask yourself this question - who's the captain of your ship?? Every time you look at it, it lures you deeper in If I had the power, I'd throw mine in the bin But my phone is there beside me, it gives a little wink I think I've got a message - my ship is going to sink We charge them up to feed them, we're digging our own graves We venerate and idolise, we have become their slaves We can't turn back the clock now, I'm afraid we're being groomed I don't like to say it but it looks like we're all doomed!

Nanny’s Arc Grandad liked to make things, he got ideas in his head Then disappeared for months on end to build them in his shed Like when Nanny used to cycle and she wanted a new bike Grandad said “leave it to me, what colour would you like?” It had go-faster stripes and a great big shiny bell But what the saddle used to be, Nanny couldn’t tell When Nanny tried to ride it, it made a funny sound She didn’t like to tell him that the wheels should be round Then one day Grandad announced “I’m going to build a boat” Nanny somehow doubted that the thing would ever float But she rustled up some sails from old towels and handkerchiefs Some bedsheets and a duvet and a pair of grandad’s briefs He gathered odds and ends, old bits of wood and bark He said “this is my masterpiece, I name her Nanny’s Arc”! He stuck the bits together with a special sort of glue Then planned her maiden voyage and invited nanny too So Nanny made a picnic and they set off in the car The Arc perched on a trailer that used to be a bar The launch went off quite smoothly, Grandad hollered “All Aboard”! Nanny smashed a bottle of beer, the best they could afford Grandad was delighted, the Arc sailed really well They flew off down the river like a bat from out of hell Before too long he realised, but didn’t like to say They’d been swept along by wind and tide - going the wrong way! They tried to turn the Arc around, to put her in reverse But she didn’t have a rudder and to make things even worse They were in the shipping lane and thought they’d be run down So they rowed with all their might – for fear that they would drown! They rowed for hours and hours and ended up in France They shouted “Rule Britannia!” and did a sailor’s dance The locals were quite friendly, they said “bien venue” But Grandad stuck his fingers up and grunted “same to you” They went into a restaurant to order fish and chips But all they got were frogs legs and some horrid garlic dips Nanny felt all homesick, longing for her bed So they dumped the Ark in Calais and got the ferry home instead

I hope you enjoy reading and listening to some of my poems - they are mostly lighthearted rhymes about the life of a lady-of-a-certain age - either things that strike me as funny or things that rile me and make me mad - I don't know about you but I do enjoy a good rant at times! On the other hand, I have written a few poems that I think are quite moving. I would love to hear what you think...... If you would like a personalized poem for a special occasion or custom poetry for you as an individual or for your business, please do get in touch, Whether you're looking to celebrate a milestone or promote your brand through custom poetry, I'll give it a go! If you are a poet of a similar ilk, please feel free to share your work with me - maybe we could use my site to collaborate - a platform for poets to share their work, promote events, and even sell poetry-related merchandise. Always with a focus on fun and lighthearted poetry, The Artful Poet aims to bring joy and positivity to readers through the power of words. All the beautiful pictures on my site are painted by my incredibly talented sister, Sue Barker. They are stunningly crafted abstrct landscapes painted in acrylic and can be purchased on my site. Please do get in touch if you would like more information. I have a passion for writing and a desire to share my poems with others. I was first inspired to start writing poetry about a year ago after noticing the amount of litter on the side of the road - Litterbug was my first attempt and the start of a very unexpected career as a poet!

Friendship When I think about my younger years, I’ve come to realise Just how many friends I had, I loved to socialise My diary told a story of parties and good fun Making new friends all the time, loving everyone Oh my word, how times have changed, my life is different now Friends fell by the wayside, I’m still not quite sure how Maybe a clash of values could be the catalyst Or a difference of opinion, they’d be off the Christmas list! Some friendships kind of dwindled, you’d say the old cliche "I’ll see you soon, let’s keep in touch", then life got in the way One by one they bit the dust, consigned to history So those who stood the test of time are precious now to me Friendship is a blessing but it’s such a fragile thing You can’t take it for granted, it needs constant nurturing I may have been too quick to judge, I wasn’t very wise I thought that good friends grew on trees, I didn’t realise True friends are like hare’s teeth, they’re rare and hard to find They love you with your warts and all and know what’s on your mind You need good friends to have a laugh, you need them for support You know they’ve always got your back, they’d never sell you short The best friends understand that you can’t always be there They don’t demand your time, but enjoy the times you share Your bond is deep and loyal and when life keeps you apart It doesn’t seem to matter ‘cos they’re always in your heart You wish each other well and rejoice in their good news And you feel each other’s pain when life gives them the blues If you’re really lucky and you’ve got a friend like this Send them a lovely message now - and a great big kiss x

Dear Husband, love of my life, I’m writing to explain What’s happened to your lovely wife, I haven’t gone insane It’s a temporary madness, I’ll soon be right as rain But my body has been ambushed by the hormones in my brain I’m going through the menopause, I know it sounds cliche But anything you say or do might go down the wrong way I’d give me a wide berth, yes I’d keep a low profile You’re walking round on eggshells so I’d tiptoe for a while I’m going through the change of life, in a state of turmoil Hot flushes keep erupting, this volcano’s on the boil I haven’t slept a wink for weeks, don’t bait this raging bull I might explode and you could get a monumental earful My universe is foggy, thoughts vanish in thin air I walk into another room and wonder why I’m there What did I come in for? What was I meant to do? I stand there feeling frightened, haven’t got a bloody clue This transition is unpleasant, my head is in a vice I wish I didn’t feel like this, it isn’t very nice I’m feeling fat and bloated and my hair is getting thin And age spots and wrinkles keep appearing on my skin My boobs are sore and tender and my joints ache all the time I’m going to have to face it, I’m no longer in my prime My self esteem is plummeting, it’s at an all time low And worst of all it’s looking like I’ve lost my libido So I’ve been to see the doctor, she was patient and kind She said it’s very common to think you’ve lost your mind She’s given me some patches, I’m already feeling better I know it’s been tough going, hence the reason for this letter I’m in my second spring now, approaching a new phase Good riddance to the bloom of youth and reproductive days I’m beginning a new chapter of self discovery Praise be to the scientists, thank gould for HRT!

Harry and Charly Day 1 I’ve acquired a pussy cat, much to my dismay I certainly didn’t want one, it just sort of came my way Harry came from Harwich where he lived with Auntie Pat But Auntie has been taken ill so I’ve acquired a cat I don’t like cats, they bite and scratch and cover you in fur They kill our little birdies so it’s doggies I prefer But no-one else could take him in, I said I’d have a chat I guess our hearts went out to him, so now we’ve got a cat I think we’re going to like him though, he’s settled in so well And he won't be killing birdies 'cos I’ve given him a bell He doesn’t bite or scratch, just purrs happily all day And he’s very clean and tidy with the dreaded litter tray And what they say is rubbish, cats and dogs don’t fight They seem to love each other, they bonded at first sight He cuddles up with Charly and gives a little groom There’s so much love between them, they need to get a room! I never thought I’d have a cat, it’s funny how life goes It’s almost like it’s meant to be – is it destiny? Who knows!

Walkies in January Second week in January, twenty twenty-five It’s like the blooming Arctic - how do the birds survive? They’re tweeting in the bushes as me and Steve walk by They sing their little hearts out - ‘Yey, we’re still alive!’ We walk across the golf course, all crunchy, hard and white Each blade of grass has been adorned and glistens in the light It’s a winter wonderland out here, Jack Frost passed by last night My toes are numb, I realise – my wellies are too tight!

Litterbug I don't know if you've noticed when you're driving in your car But there’s a phenomenon occurring and it’s occurring near and far I don’t know who the culprit is it certainly isn’t me But it grinds my gears and makes me mad - whoever could it be? You must see all the litter it’s all along the road Litterbug is everywhere the dirty little toad He leaves his mark behind him he’s the lowest of the low And if I caught him in the act I’d love to tell him so Sometimes I fantasise about how I would react What I’d say and do if I caught him in the act My husband says “don’t get involved, just look the other way" But I’m not sure I could do that, I’d have to have my say I’d have to grab the chance to look him squarely in the eye And tell him what I think of him, then calmly ask him why When he wound his window down and chucked his rubbish out Who did he think would pick it up?! I'd try hard not to shout It’s not his fault he’s stupid though, he can’t be held to blame He wasn’t educated and he hasn’t got a brain His mummy didn’t teach him when he was a little boy Morons who drop rubbish are devoid of pride and joy He doesn’t see the beauty of our countryside you see He dumbly desecrates it with remains of KFC The trees and fields and daffodils hold no delight for him He’s a philistine, a cretin – I hope he’s not your kin? If he is, do us a favour, have a little word Explain the situation, I know it sounds absurd Take some time to spell it out, make it crystal clear When he does his thing and litters, it won’t just disappear It lays there on the roadside, a sad and ugly thing It can’t just pick itself up and find a handy bin It could be there for centuries, millennia or more Unless a litter picker comes and picks it off the floor Our local WhatsApp group has organised a litter pick We analysed the rubbish and it really makes us sick It’s mostly fast food wrappers that get disposed of in this way It’s pvc and cellophane, things that don’t decay Let’s get Britain tidy, let’s start a new campaign Let’s educate our children and all be proud again Let’s do our bit and contribute, there’s so much we can do To eliminate all litterbugs – I hope he isn’t you?! (I feel that I should mention, just in case I might offend Litterbug can be any gender, he isn’t only men But for the purpose of my poem it worked more easily on this occasion artistic licence trumps equality)