miss mittens and her two kittens
lived in the rainy back lane
they loved fishy heads, fluffy socks for their bed
and their fur brushed out like a mane

the old man on the porch was allergic to cats,
and walked the lane every day
he’d aim a swift kick, they’d jump back a tick
and curse them on his walk to the bay

one day the old man’s kick aimed true
and ms mittens’ kitten had a bruised back
the old man snickered while the cats scarpered quicker,
his hands tucked into his brown slacks

a week went by and the old man was pleased
he saw no sign of cat, no fish heads or socks
no furry manes, mice, or cat games
for he had the eyes of a hawk

but as he walked the shore of the bay,
he tripped and fell into the water
he couldn’t swim – no one could save him but him!
and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small squatter

the water, it ate him right up
his brown slacks in tow, like the proud flag of britain
and on the shore, with furry manes and cat games
was miss mittens and her two kittens