1st July 2021
The Paramatt of Gazubo – oh, he does sound very grand:
You’d think he commands great navies,
Owns a thousand miles of land.
The Paramatt of Gazubo: one imagines statues of solid gold,
And his name on myriad banknotes,
Proudly printed in Clarendon Bold.
The Paramatt of Gazubo – I’ve never known him humble:
He struts around believing he’s more important than rhubarb crumble.
He thinks the world would miss him more
Than ham would miss good mustard,
Even believes that on a sinking ship
They’d save him, and not the custard!
The Paramatt of Gazubo has an awful lot to learn:
He isn’t that great bearing
On which the whole globe turns.
He actually has no importance at all, out in the world so wide;
And as for that title he’s so proud of –
He gave it to himself, as a child.
The Paramatt of Gazubo is our family’s moggy, you see;
He’s never written about or spoken about,
Except by just we three.
We love him dearly, with his faults
And all his silly airs;
And life would not be half the fun if Pussy wasn’t there.
He really very special is, within these four stone walls;
And we are so important to him: see how he rushes down the hall
When he hears the key go in the lock, or the moment his name is called.
Meanwhile whenever, in the kitchen, we go past the refrigerator door
On our ankles we will always feel
The firm tap of a reminding paw.
Yes, indeed: we are His servants three,
And must always perform efficiently.
Doesn’t matter if we are poorly, or running late for school:
Our priority must always be to answer His every beck and call.
So to The Paramatt of Gazubo I kneel, and doff my hat;
And let nobody in the universe dare say, “He’s just a cat!”
© Christopher Jessop 2021
