When cats are kings
Never Knew it when I was small
Bringing home the Cat
Crouching behind the refrigerator,
My pet kitten would surprise my mom with am sudden lunge
On most sunny days baring its teeth like an alligator
Be happy perched on my 2-seater in a bunch
If you include those antics you see
The cunning ways it corners its prey its meal to be
It then comes silently to sneak back to me,
Then you should consider deep jungle fantasy.
Inklypom tinkly tom, iddly puddly dungly bom.
Window seat for me
Breaking in the cat was difficult.
But it happened anyhow: clean and horrible simultaneously dealt
Shirking all dirt as is normal with its cult
Feasts of frogs and live snakes and things that smelt,
They curl up on window ledges quite aptly
They leave their bed quietly,
To check out the new intruding insect or bird deftly,
Beguiling tactics reduce numbers abruptly.
Inklypom tinkly tom, iddly puddly dungly bom.
More the merrier
Me and my cat
Never in need of sandwiches or a shower,
Equally charming at tea time as at supper,
Sometime they tuck themselves in front yard bower,
Or creep and sleep among the shoe and slipper.
Every morning and evening seems to be same,
Without my cat I would be quite lame,
Even though this feeling is hard to tame,
It sometimes is much more than any game.
Inklypom tinkly tom, iddly puddly dungly bom.
My children my kitten
Events come and go quickly in time,
Anniversaries and celebrations,
Some like birthdays others find these sublime,
My cat produced kitten in rations.
They kept their spots and though some had glorious color,
They still creep behind the refrigerator to show their valor,
As if the skill is in its blood only they are smaller,
Although trees have grown taller.
Inklypom tinkly tom, iddly puddly dungly bom.
Mom and her kittens
Night outs are cool
Spring’s mischief, and rat’s nemesis,
Has a tail that swings and threatens,
Warm spot on the porch is bliss,
Heads off nightly on its hunt and returns.
Often with a prized catch,
Sometimes has it down it hatch,
Lies down curled in its patch,
At the foot of the bed after a stretch.
Inklypom tinkly tom, iddly puddly dungly bom.
Life goes on
When my cat has a bountiful crop I gather the kitten,
Load them in the cart and swish my crop,
The whip bites through the mitten,
Mew-mew all through until I stop.
Cat lovers in the neighborhood are few,
Yet I can spare one or two,
To those who are new,
And will feed these kitten milk and stew.
Inklypom tinkly tom, iddly puddly dungly bom.
Today there are many homes with refrigerators,
And cuddly fur balls that creep and pounce about,
Like clock springs or alligators,
You know they retain their spots and relish their bout.
Their jungle is the porch and backyard,
Which they zealously do guard,
Insects and young birds do find life hard,
Dodging the claws of this pard.
Inklypom tinkly tom, iddly puddly dungly bom.
