Page 57 - Poetry-Animals

How Many Cats Have We?

We have a large catalpa-tree
The caterpillars seek.
A dread stroke of catalysis
Left grandpa very weak.
He feeds on nice Catawba grapes,
A cataclysm takes,
With catachriston he is rubbed
Each morning when he wakes.
Our maid has catalepsy,
And cataplasmus needs.
The baby caterwauls for tea
Made from the catnip-weeds.
Our hired man, who has catarrh,
Brings catfish from the lake.
We heard a catamount scream out,
Our cattle made a break
And ran straight to the cataract
Whose waters swell the sea,
And headlong plunged, alas! It was
A sad catastrophe.
We’ve catgut-strings to our guitar,
Cattails arranged in groups;
We’ve cat gold in our oil-stoves,
And catsup in our soups.
A cat-o’-nine-tails, uncle says,
He’ll from his vessel bring.
A cat’s eye cater-cornered
Is set in sister’s ring.
A catalogue of cats is here,
Perhaps about a score;
You’ll make a cat’s paw out of me,
If you catechize for more.
A category I’d be in
That hardly could be worse,
If you should dub each random line
A catalectic verse.

—Belle R. Harrison (from a Victorian Scrap Album)

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