a sequel to The Owl & The Pussycat by Edward Lear
The next day at dawn, Puss stretched with a yawn
While Owl lay fast asleep.
Puss smiled at her ring, that glamorous thing,
And at Owl –both hers to keep.
Puss gazed at the money (they had eaten the honey)
In its packet, that had grown far too thin.
“O it’s simply not fair that I have to share!”
Puss whispered beneath her grin,
Puss whispered beneath her grin.
“Such hard work!” Puss mewed with a smirk.
“But my labor is nearly complete.
It’s just as I planned –I’ll keep my band
And soon have Owl to eat.
I’m done with his foolery! I’ll keep all the jewelry!
And I’ll use that runcible spoon!
Not on mince, or querulous quince –
On that bird who can’t carry a tune,
On that bird who can’t carry a tune!”
So that cynical Cat grew flagrantly fat
On her late husband, the Owl.
She sat and she thought on the spoils that she’d got
And on what she had lost. Puss cried: “Fowl!
I was willing to sell love for a shilling!
I could not give –I only could take!
I was too hasty and –though you were tasty –
I fear I made a mistake,
I fear I made a mistake!”