'twas early morning at the house,
by Herbert Nehrlich
a breeze was toying with the trees.
Inside the pantry lived a mouse,
who nibbled there on Allan's cheese.
Up on the glowing fireplace,
sat Cole the turkey, he had shat
onto the cat's sleep-drunken face,
who now, in turn got up and spat
a wad of ugly, greenish slime
precisely on the old wind chime,
which was the perch for Mr. Crow,
who, black and shiny, mumbled 'NO'.
And now the orchestra woke up,
while in the kitchen with a cup
the boss was seen in company:
A goat from his menagerie.
A mountain goat like Edelweiss,
with lovely hair and soulful eyes
was taking in the various species,
then, with the dustpan cleaned up faeces.
'Twas feeding time now and their cries
awakened all the house-poo flies,
who clean up shit then look for more.
Then, in the neighbourhood a cat,
who lusted after Turkey Cole
and would have liked to, after that
take on the one who, black as coal
looked like he had some flesh on bones.
And further down, a giant dog
spoke up in high-pitched plaintiff tones,
his barking then woke in the log
the long-haired wombat and his wife.
In short, within so little time
the neighbourhood was quite alive,
poo flies were eating now the slime,
the cat had stepped in Cole's gray cacca,
and Al, the Crow, still on the chime..
the boss was facing some hard yakka.
When suddenly a sound was heard
that no one could identify.
And then they saw it! Oh, my word!
The ocean water seemed to fly
in their direction, and at speed.
Was this the song of Loreley?
Was this the end? It was indeed.
As Huxley said, it is quite clear,
that those whose end is getting near
will do their best to either find
a partner who is sweet and kind,
and do an in-depth exploration,
a final deathbed fornication.
Or, failing that, to eat a creature
with a substantial fatty feature,
so Fred the mouse ate all the cheese,
there were three flies, so he grabbed these
with lightning movements.Then he died
rolled over and lay on his side.
Cole saw the crow and quickly thought
that from the back he looked so scrumptious,
perhaps he would prove quite rambunctious,
but he would force him if he fought.
The cat looked at the wombat's fur
and thought it may yet be a her.
The dog who saw the cat jump wombat,
tore off his chain, went into combat.
And boss and beauty from the mountains?
They jumped in bed like dormant fountains,
and did what made the only sense:
Got naked quickly like close friends.
'As you can see', said Allan, 'wisdom
in every species plays a role.'
When for the last time Lizzie kissed him
the tidal wave came - got 'em all.