The Owl and the Pussycat – the Cat’s Story
Granted my husband sang sweetly enough, but what the rhyme doesn’t even mention is his fowl temper. That and the regurgitation. And that pea-green vessel? My beautiful face was pea-green maybe, under my tabby stripes.
Moonlight, a wide sweep of sand, a small guitar – it was all very seductive, but it wasn’t long before fur and feathers flew. So it was twit twoo, toodle-oo and he flitted with a fiver and the runcible spoon – the latter all my invention incidentally.
No use crying over spilt milk; plenty more fish in the sea. And I can always invite the registrar over for dinner.
M J Lewis 2016
Must be the silly season – still in holiday mood and enjoying the last of the summer days as September approaches.
Thanks to all who visit and to our Friday Fiction host, writer and artist Rochelle whose productivity is an inspiration. To sail away, for considerably less than a year and a day, to a land where the Story Tree grows click here. Thanks also to Georgia Koch for the photo.
And I’ve also added this link to Edward Lear’s poem and illustrations.