'twas a cat on my head this morning as I slumbered, unencumbered, in bed. He rounded my pillow, and sat settling in, like a hairy, soft hat. Then, he started to purr, this bundle of fur and looking, I'm certain, demure. Soon, a tail switched over my nose as he washed both his ears and his toes. He moved onto my hair, quite unaware of my protests with nary a care. Removing him became quite a chore as he thought it a small act of war. I grabbed 'round his middle, as he yowled like a fiddle and placed him down on the floor. Hence, he sped to the kitchen like he'd seen a bewitching and checked out his food dish and more. In an instant he changed, his needs rearranged as he sped, like the wind, through the door. No longer a tiger, or great lion fighter he sat by his dish, looking poor. And circling my legs, he shamelessly begs for a treat, or a spot of my cream. Just a minutes ago, it was fight, toe to toe was it real, or a feline filled dream? A scratch here and there, quickly made me aware that, indeed, there'd been an assault. But how could this be, as he gazed up at me with a look of "it wasn't my fault." So, I gathered him up in my arms, forgetting his earlier harms, and we sat down to try for a nap. 'twas a cat on my head this morning and now he's asleep in my lap.