A poem for children.

When I was very young,
I lived in Brighton.
Studied at night,
with the kitchen light on.
One day I was working up to midnight,
when a furry monster gave me a fright.

Through the flap in the door, the monster came,
and his big yellow eyes
burnt like a flame,
he swished his tail
and arched his back,
and bared his teeth -
he was going to attack.

When I gave the monster a saucer of milk,
he crouched in the corner, and started to sulk.
He mewed all night
and made it clear:
“Whatever you do, I’m staying here!”
I opened the salmon
just for him
but he tipped it - onto the linoleum.
He clawed the legs of my sofa bed,
and climbed the curtains,
then played dead.

But when I gave him a bouncy ball,
He wasn’t really a cat, at all,
He chased it, gnawed it,
like a pup,
Because this cat
thought he was a dog.