'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.