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About This Poem
Colbert
Colbert always thought he was a very cool cat
He would spend all his days sprawled out on a mat
But at night he would go and frequent some bars, and
Sit in a corner and smoke hand rolled cigars
His friends would just sit around and admire
While coughing up fur balls by a very warm fire
In his crisp white shirts, and saville row suits
He would avoid all the puddles in his hand stitched boots
With a wide brimmed hat, and sleek black fur, what
The others thought of him he really didn’t care
At the head of the table, he’d sit and just think
Which sleek furry feline would buy him a drink?
While out smoking, drinking and looking for wives
To keep such a night life, he’d need his nine lives
Come the dawn, check his shares and ring his stockbroker
Then swagger to the casino for black jack and poker!
There’s nothing he likes more than a nice pedicure
As he won’t throw the dice, he might break a claw
While enjoying the champagne and caviar lifestyle
For a cat of his age he isn’t so agile
Unaware in the shadows there’s lurking a rival
A Tom that’s prepared to fight for survival
One night in the club, in the middle of poker
The challenger shouts, “Colbert you’re a joker”
With a hush, onlookers tiptoed to the doors
All fearing the worst, a sharpening of claws
But, Colbert kept his cool and turned on the charm
Sir, I don’t want to fight, and I wish you no harm!
Do you dabble in cards? Said Colbert with a grin
If you long for my crown there’s a chance you may win
With a Cheshire cat grin all over his face, the
Challenger dealt at a very fast pace
“Ace high” said Colbert while preening his fur
The challenger looked, and then said “Two Purr “
Colbert feeling shaken, looking pale and shocked
With tears in his eyes, from his throne he was knocked!
The challenger said, “I’m not Jack the lad”
I had a good teacher in you , you’re my dad!
So Tom the new king, sits at the head of the table
Accepting a drink from a feline called Mable
In front of new friends and his little harem
In casinos and clubs Tom wants to be seen
Not a thought for Colbert, gone and forgotten
But the secret he keeps , is that he dealt from the bottom
Poor Colbert’s on the street begging for scraps
No hand rolled cigars, just half eaten baps
Tom’s putting on weight, but deep down he knows
Out there is a rival, so he keeps on his toes
Colbert’s demise was swift and exact
He spends the rest of his days just a plain alley cat!
copyright 12/5/2011
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