Cats
She had a few cats that made her merry,
By her cats, her settees were somewhat torn,
Their nails would tear into her couches worn.
Were it a cake, she'd feed them the cherry;
She gave them everything, even sherry,
Cats loved her, soon some more kittens were born,
They'd rub against her legs to be fed corn.
She fed them fruit; plums, pear, grapes and berry,
Still, she would drunk the kittens up with wine.
House-bred, of the outdoors, they had no clue,
Every winter time, she'd clothe them fine.
Of her, no other had they any view
And only with her did they want to dine,
Unlike some cats, they'd no one else pursue.