David Chadwick

The Little General

 

Banty is nowhere to be seen

The little general has gone into hiding

Usually she commands the front step

Strutting back and forth, intimidating

The cats, raiding their food dishes

Shouting out for more rations

Surveying the garden for likely spots

To dig in and occupy among the carnations

 

But now she is laying low in a secret spot

Keeping out of sight until it suits

No doubt she will emerge again when it’s time

Trailling a new bunch of raw recruits