Arthur
Arthur
Its Jennifer's birthday,
Break out the champagne
Put up balloons and coloured paper chains
The child is on top of the world
so it seems
That was until Arthur,
Shattered her dreams
For those in the dark
At this moment in time
Let me introduce Arthur
On nasty feline
A moggy with menace
A cat with conviction
He'd scratch on the chairs
And leave hairs in the kitchen
And when he was challenged
He'd sigh and then pout
'So that's you reaction, well, I'm going out'
And then they would think
That he might not come back
Maybe lying quite dead
by a railway track
But not Arthur, oh no
He would always return
When his passion for evil
Had started to burn
But Arthur was treading a wafer thin line
As his owners had started to feel the incline
To have him removed from their humble abode
And thrown from a bridge, or kicked into the road
I hear all the shouts of 'you cannot do that'
But really, my friends you do not know this cat
For the family, Jennifer, Angie and Reg
One final display threw them over the edge
The cat had appeared about two days before
Having sauntered in through the conservatory door
And in finding the household preparing for fun
He took to the field like Attila the hun
With sheer disregard for his owners emotions
And Jennifers true and undying devotions
He ripped up the gifts with the sharpest of claws
He trod on the cakes and spilled drinks on the floor
It was all in the most undecipherable mess
And Jennifer really was far from impressed
This time he had taken things slightly too far
For this latest of tricks was quite well below par
Jenny strapped on her boots with steel cap in the toe
And kicked the cats rear with the swiftest of blows
The guests at the party at first were aghast
when they saw little Arthur come hurtling past
But then, understanding of Jennifers cause
There followed a delicate round of applause
Its true that the cat is the loser this time
If you can't take the punishment don't do the crime
Arthur slunk off with a scowl on his face
And of him to this day there has not been a trace
Still there may be a time Jenny feels some regret
For Arthur, by no means is finished just yet
gavin turner
Wed 13th Sep 2017 14:53
Thanks for your comment M.C.
Cats can be unpredictable, much like editors of small poetry press I fear!