Monday's Kitten
1995, S Hartwell

Monday's kitten caught fleas and is spotty,
Tuesday's kitten drives everyone dotty,
Wednesday's kitten keeps missing its tray,
Thursday's kitten refuses to play,
Friday's kitten has worn out its toys,
Saturday's kitten makes a terrible noise,
And the kitten that's born on the seventh day,
Is just as much fun as the rest, okay?

KITTEN
(Melody Collier)

I have not seen the Taj Mahal in moonlight or in sun,
Nor have I watched hyenas laugh when in the mood for fun.
I have not seen Old Santa Claus, although I heard his bell,
I never saw a fairy dance at midnight in the deli.
I have not travelled very far from England¹s pleasant land,
I should lose my way entirely on the Road to Samarkand.
When people rave about the views in Portugal and Crete
I nod and smile agreement, for I never can compete.
I have not watched the sun rise across the fields of France
Nor have I seen the Africans perform their Tribal Dance.
Some people even pity me for I have never seen
The diamonds in the Tower that are guarded for the Queen.
But I have seen a lovelier sight than jewels on display;
I watched a kitten dancing with a butterfly today.

‘LOOKING FOR SANTA’ (A true story!)
W Girt

Lucy is a snow-white puss, at least she used to be,
Until she learned the pleasures of watching ITV
She liked to sit before the set and often could be seen
Trying very hard to catch the wild-life on the screen.

Well, one day watching adverts, she saw to her surprise
A gentleman with whiskers white and very merry eyes.
He wore a hooded scarlet coat, was very very stout
Descending from the chimney, he gave lots of presents out.

Now Lucy is a CURIOUS cat, too much for her own good,
She knew THEY had a chimney with a lovely fire of wood,
But this was always guarded and was mostly very hot,
The more she thought about it, the more confused she got.

Quietly she watched and waited till the day, alas
That Mother took the guard away, to rake out all the ash.
Then went out to the dustbin to empty out the tray
Quite forgetting Lucy with her nosy little ways.

In two flicks of a whisker that cat had seized her chance
Streaking up the chimney without a backward glance.
Mother coming back was quite aghast at what she saw
Instead of one small snowy puss, a fluffy blackamoor.

Paw marks on the carpet and on the easy chair
In fact, to cut the story short, the soot flew everywhere.
Sneezing, swearing, spluttering, poor Lucy was a sight
Into the bowl of suds she went, to try and wash her white.

Dried and brushed, much cleaner now, but still a little grey
She quite ignores the chimney, even when the guard’s away.
But in her feline mind (we hope!) the memory she’ll keep
Of the day she looked for Santa and finished like a sweep!

A LITTLE WORD PLAY
S Hartwell
(Inspired by the playground riddle "Why do cat's purr? / For some unknown purr-puss)

Silent cat, purposeful
Little mouse ... purr, puss full!
Pussy cat full, filled
Hunting trip fulfilled
But death blow - puss too late
Deep mouse bites pustulate
Pussy goes to vet in hurry
Needing treatment vet'inary
But with healed paw, puss
Hunts with renewed purpose