I

 

With beautiful mewsic their singing arose

Beyond the old trash cans, above the new rose,

Whose silent purrfumes spake loud of romance,

And catnippy moods of ethereal dance.

 

The elegant mice-strow, with his baton,

Conducted the duet on beasties long gone,

And glorious presents, with paper and string,

And ribbons and and crinkley tissue; they sing

 

Of cavernous bags like deep baffling dens,

And boxes like box cars, and pencils and pens,

And doggies that run off and howl at the moon,

And catnapping days in luxurious June.

 

                                   II

 

O lovelier than the mournful nightingale

Who trills in a mysterious moonlit dale,

Or rare Kiri Te Kanawa, whose voice

And range and tone make everyone rejoice,

 

Miss Licorice Toes hits all the highest notes

And makes all other creatures sound like goats;

Majestic Luccio Pawvarotti croons

Melodiously all those immortal tunes.

 

And softer than the softest cooing doves,

Or Cupid's flocks of lightly floating loves,

More gentle than the softest zephre blows,

More sweet than the unfolding of a rose;

 

More beautiful than troops of fairies sing

Or choirs of angels, or rock stars with bling,

They meow, --while people, with our puny ears,

Are deaf to what the smallest kitten hears.