The Watchman


Sprawled out upon the floor,
This watchman by the door
Defends my place with might and grace—
A fact you can't ignore.

The mistress and her spouse
Of this paws-managed house
Fulfil his wish—fried Rohu fish—
To leave no room for grouse.

With never-blinking eyes
Fixed on that home of mice,
He's set to rout them when they're out—
A victory in a trice!

He doesn't need to view
An ID proof or two;
Just stroke his fur, and he'll infer
It's safe to let you through.

However, there's a small
Incumbent protocol:
If he's in deep on-duty sleep,
Don't bother him AT ALL!

Shamik Banerjee

If you have any thoughts about this poem, Shamik Banerjee  would be pleased to hear them