The old cherry tree

They have cut down the  old cherry tree
Where my cat used to climb and watch me.
Little black lady cat
On my old bike she sat.
Then knocked on the door for her tea.

I used to post letters near here
The cat would pretend to no fear.
But when I turned to go home
Faster than  sound she came
So  from the old porch she would leer.

All that is left it this stump
And the bike is well fit for the dump
The pillar box red is there
But my own use is rare.
I see  a small celandine clump