Muffin Cat In A ZipZap Rat Hole
In a tippy old house on a chilly hill slope
lived a stout lady, turning to seventy two.
She’d sit by the fireplace rocking in her quiver chair,
not knowing the beasty drama being played downstairs.
Two sneaky creatures, composing a fiddle-shifty pair,
a snoozy muffin black cat and a wiggly zipzap grey rat,
lived in the attic for ages in curiously peaceful zest,
danced wild doodling samba through the hushed nights.
The cat curled on her frayed mat for smarty catnap,
while the rat flipped-flopped doing acrobatic twists.
He’d wiggle in a flurry of zigzag gymnastic twirls,
snake all over the cat’s tail like a merry-go-round robot.
One napping afternoon when the lady sipped tea,
the cat lay flat purring slowly in a snoozy relaxed mood.
The rascal rat turned a brat and with a quick nibble
bit her tubby tail as if that was a juicy sausage roll.
The cat sprang up like a spring, screeched a shrill scream,
puffed her quivering whiskers and strutted through the air.
With a wiggle and wriggle she pounced swiftly
on the darting rogue rat to settle the score on her terms.
The rat, quick as zipzap, vanished in a split blink
through the tiny hole into the dark and murky tunnel.
The cat stomped and tramped with a gritty groan,
shoved in her over-sized head into the rat hole.
Poor kitty, her thrust to punish the rat fell flat,
her head got stuck in the teeny hide-out of the rat.
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