One of the things I hate about this time of year is that we're so busy at work that I miss all the good stuff. By the time I read my favorite blogs it is late at night and too late to address subjects of interest--plus, I can't think straight by then. So, I totally missed the bloggers (silent) poetry readings. Late or not, I would like to share one of my own works, from when I was very, very, VERY young and did crazy things like write poetry. This is for all my cat loving, knitting friends...
SAGA OF WEE WILLIE
Wee Willie was a wondrous cat
Of wildly vibrant fur.
A fat cat blessed with ego bold,
And rasp instead of purr.
Wee Willie won the cat fight
Weekly held on alley fence.
He waged the fight of wilder cats
Who prowl in jungle dense.
There was no match for Willie Boy...
No other cat his equal.
Which is precisely why this story
Does not have a sequel.
The drama started late one night
Behind the garbage cans.
there was the sound of wailing,
And clang of pots and pans.
Wee Willie took on Tiger Cat
Of fierce and savage stock.
Willie's spunk in battle
Was really quite a shock.
He slashed old Tiger with his claws...
Bit him with his fangs.
The Tiger rose to run away...
On that Wil's victory hangs.
As Willie reached out with his paw
To slash old Tige once more,
a withered shoe came flying through
An open alley door.
Tom Simpson yelled, "Take that you cat!"
At Tiger, as it hit.
Then Willie had the title won
Cats present would admit.
With forepaws poised, he shoved Tiger
right on off Tom Simpson's fence.
The cats joined in the mirthful squeals...
With details I'll dispense.
Except to say poor Tiger
Landed face down in the dirt,
And wanting to avoid more shame,
Pretended he was hurt.
He always said Wee Willie didn't
Fight a fair Cat's fight,
But no cat questions Willie's power
to rule the alley night.
And no cat wants to fight him,
Just in case old Tiger's right.
Katherine Myers
No comments:
Post a Comment