vinebar

Cat’s Eyes - A Fairytale
7 January, 2004
Author: Mark Spencer

vinebar

This is the story of a cat named Mycroft,
Who love to watch the children play in the park.
He would sit on the limb of a shady tree,
And watch over them until it got dark.

Sometimes Bartholomew, the dog, would join him,
As would a friendly bird whose name was Harry.
The three would spend hours talking in the park,
Though Mycroft liked to argue with the canary.

Whenever Harry would get on the cat’s nerves,
Mycroft would pick his teeth with a very sharp claw.
The canary knew when he shouldn’t argue,
When he might get smacked in the head by a paw.

One day while the three were lounging in the shade,
They spotted a van pulling into the park.
Two men wearing ski masks stepped out of the van,
Mycroft felt his claws sink deep into the bark.

One man grabbed the mother, hand over her mouth,
As Mycroft and his friends leapt into the fray!
The other man had gone after the children,
Never expecting what would happen that day.

Mycroft was a hybrid, half bobcat, half Manx,
Not many housecats weighed nearly thirty pounds.
Bartholomew was a malamute himself,
More than twice the size of your average hounds.

Mycroft climbed up the back of one of the men,
The man instantly let go of the mother.
Harry began pecking the top of his head,
As Bartholomew went after the other.

The dog pinned the man and sat upon his chest,
Snarling teeth just inches from the fellow’s throat.
While the other man had been run up a tree,
“That was my doing.” The cat would later gloat.

The police arrived just moments later,
The mother had called the instant she got free.
They took her statement then read the men their rights,
They were cuffed and taken into custody.

The three hero’s became celebrities,
Their pictures, in the paper and on TV.
They even had a guest spot on Oprah,
Paraded about for all the world to see.

But their fame soon faded, to the cat’s relief,
No more baths, pedicures or perfume sprays.
No more ink on his paws from the autographs,
No one deciding how he should spend his days.

A normal cat again, lounging in the park,
Just Harry, Bartholomew, the dog, and he.
Viewing the children as they play in the sand,
Watching them from the shade of the old oak tree.

vinebar

Comments on this poem/writing:

Megan (68.122.126.80) -- Thursday, January 8 2004, 04:09 am

Really cool!!

My neighbor had a cat like that once. He didn't fight crime or anything, but he was big enough to. Another cool story!
Leah (199.126.238.142) -- Friday, January 30 2004, 03:47 am

...

Lol you should write story lines for Lassie or that homebound show where all the animals talk....you have really entertaining poems here...
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

Comment Title:

Comment / Ammendment:

Please complete the recaptcha below for spam prevention:

Click here to read other Poems by Mark Spencer

vinebar

Poetic Dreams Other's Poetic Dreams Submit a Poem New This Week Forum Home

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.