Mews

When I couldn’t think of a title, I asked my cat Max what he thought to name it.
Hence the title;

Mews

Young Bun-Rab tastes green grass today,
  Far enough out to be seen,
She’s chewed a yard wide swath of lawn,
  Down to a putting green
                                           (about her nest)

She’s never heard of strokes or par,
  Nor membered in golf clubs,
While well she heeds unquestioningly
  The warning turtle dove
                                            (noisy things)

The Goshawk’s not so secretive,
  His presence comes with coos,
He waits upon a verging branch
  Spying silently the mews,
                                   (fresh Spring blades)

He knows of birdies, eagles too,
  Mean things that hide in shrubs,
He’s also shy of men with guns,
  Members of The Hill Hunt Club,
                                 (but they’re not about)

Then there’s that patch Young Rabbit’s in,
  He knows what must be done,
A leaping from his perch he dives,
  As bouncing Bun-Rab holes in one