Pussycat Lament

*A lone, unkempt man places a sheet of parchment on a thorn. While walking away he looks to be speaking to a lump under his cloak and he says, "There, its done. Now will you quit bothering me about it?" *

PUSSYCAT LAMENT


Its cold and damp outside
And my belly isn't filled,
Padding on four paws
Thinking of all the mice I've killed.
I've strolled through many alleyways,
More than a few gardens recently tilled,
Through city streets and forests
So that now my wanderlust is nil.
Queens I've had aplenty,
Kittens call me Father still,
Yet one Princess rose above them all
Whom I loved for her strong will.
Now my fur is no longer sleek
And some might think me ill,
But a Tyger's spirit lies in me
As I sleep upon the windowsill.

*The bright eyed bard comes upon this note and with a thoughtful smile attaches a small pouch to the thorn. Inside is catnip, of course.*