Cats Don'T Play
There was a big hooray in Kind-ville one day.
For a kitten was found, a serious light gray.
The premonition had come true, and in the best kind of way.
An animal with a pink nose was here, and maybe to stay.
Surrounding the kitten was an aura shaped like a fish, a blue ray.
Everybody came outside, and Uncle T did a little sashay.
She is staying inside, he said, indicating my sourpuss Aunt Kay.
She never did believe in premonitions, or any kind of play.
The kitten stretched, yawned, and did all kinds of play.
We brought her food, petted her, and put in a bow, so gay.
All in all it was Kind-ville’s utmost very best day.
Until six more kittens showed up, and refused to go away
And began eating our residents. I ran from the fray.
Many of us mice got eaten in Kind-ville that day,
Because those unpredictable giant cats really don’t play.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018
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