In the same vein as "The Tenth Life of Alice's Cat", here are two other little ditties about those people with fur and a bad attitude towards tights...
Well, if it's good enough for Wendy Cope, then it's OK for me. These unashamed parodies of familiar classics need no further explanation...
Is there anyone there ? Said the poet's cat Scratching at the kitchen door As the wind sent the leaves A scurryin' o'er the Concrete backyard's floor Yet no one stirred In that human's house Not a soul was raised by the call And the cat sadly turned To resume its' prowl .. Half past four IS A bad time to call
I must go back to the vet's again To that vet who'll kill my fleas For the wretched things have made me itch I'm a cat that's ill at ease And all I ask is a warm hearth And a fire to stretch before To close my eyes and dream of mice And forget the dog next door.
The Poetry Index
The tenth life of Alice's cat
April's poem
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